Tom Riddle and the Pureblood Prince
by Pensieve Plotter
Summary: Eileen Prince Snape's mother knew Tom Riddle perhaps better than any girl who went to school with him. Find out how Voldemort indirectly destroyed this wealthy Pureblood witch's life and why she married a muggle.
1. Fear and Awe

Tom Riddle and the Pure-Blood Prince

**Part One**

**Chapter One: Between Fear and Awe**

Eileen Prince was a skinny girl, with a long, pallid face, and stringy jet-black hair all the way down her back. The only really pretty feature, would have to be her eyes. Her eyes were a deep brown, with small sparks of light in the pupils.

There was one particular boy in her own house, Slytherin and in her year. It seemed that all the students, all the teachers, and everyone who knew this boy liked him, or at least, as the Gryffindors did, respected him. Eileen liked him too, but she was very private about her feelings, and was not one to show it. He was a brilliant student and very handsome. Eileen knew she could not measure up to him in terms of looks, but it didn't hurt that she came from a regal pureblood family, the Princes and she was also a very good student. She particularly had an interest in potions and ancient runes, as well as being captain of the Gobstones team.

It was the last night before the Christmas break would begin, and most students would leave to go home. Eileen was planning on celebrating with her family tomorrow morning.

She hurriedly swept down to the dungeons after dinner, her bluish-gray witches robes, billowing over her waist. She was hurrying to get her last bit of packing done in her dormitory and to finish her schoolwork.

The boy whom most everyone was charmed by, was lounging in a leather black arm- chair by the waterfall in the Slytherin Common Room, situated under the black lake. In his strong hands he was holding what appeared to be a small, black notebook. On it, his name was in silver gilded writing: TM RIDDLE, which stood for Tom Marvolo Riddle.

A few of the boys Tom was talking to, turned their heads when they saw Eileen march across the threshold and go down the left tunnel towards the girls' dormitories. A lot of them were interested in dating her, because she was a pureblood witch. The followers of Tom Riddle didn't wish to be ridiculed, by Tom for going out with a girl who was anything less than pureblood, non-blood traitor. He had already instilled a great deal of fear, by threatening what he would do if he found any of them were forging close relationships with the lesser wizard-kind, or at a subject of complete taboo, forming a relationship with a muggle.

When Eileen, got to her dormitory she was not very pleased with the way the girls in her dorm were acting. They were throwing their own private party, and it was a mess. They even had the nerve to sit on Eileen's bed and eat Hogsmeade candy!

When she saw this, she immediately whipped her wand out and threatened to hex them. They were all un-armed and backed away from the bed.

"Evanesco!" she hissed. And the small pile of candy disappeared. Eileen smiled smugly and said, "I wasn't going to hex anyone, but it would be prudent to leave me alone. I want to finish my essays that are due after break tonight!"

After that, all the girls, except Eileen left their dorm, and went back to the common room to party. Eileen did not want to go down there, as it was too noisy to finish her work. She sat on a chair with her nightstand in front of her to start writing her transfiguration essay for Professor Dumbledore.

Once the clock struck midnight, Eileen was still having a go at her studies, including an extra-credit potions project for Professor Slughorn about the rudimentary principles of alchemy. She was flipping through a book from the library, when the four girls from her dormitory came back in, slightly drunk on butterbeer.

Eileen angrily slammed the book shut, gathered her parchment and went down to the common room to finish. She knew from experience with these girls, that they could not sleep even with one burning candle in the room.

Once outside her room, she was immersed in total darkness in the twisting tunnel. Eileen lit her wand and proceeded to walk at a swift pace until she arrived back in the common room. Tom Riddle was also there in the back, to what appeared to Eileen to be studying.

Eileen set herself down, at a fair distance at a desk opposite Tom. For a second, Tom looked up to see who it was, and then went back to what he was doing. Eileen was going to be finished in perhaps a little more than an hour, with all her work assigned over Christmas break.

After about five minutes, once she was totally immersed in her work once again, there was a moaning and a shuffling sound of slippers coming up from the tunnel.

A young girl emerged in a navy-blue bathrobe, and bright red slippers. She had glasses and her brown-hair was in curlers. She had a miserable expression on her face, as if somebody had died. But Tom knew better, because the girl was always like this.

For the first minute, Tom Riddle and Eileen were able to ignore her. But the low, incessant moaning became louder and louder. Both Eileen and Tom were becoming seriously irked by it, and each decided to take action at the same moment.

Tom Riddle sprung up from his chair, in his high-collared black robes to an impressive height of six feet, for his fifteen-year-old body. Eileen slammed her book shut at the same moment. Neither of these actions had any effect on the girl.

Tom Riddle glided over to the girl, and stood behind her. She started to let out another yelping wail and Tom put his pale left hand on her shoulder, and said, "Myrtle it's Riddle here. You better quiet down unless you want me to hurt you."

The girl named, Myrtle who was in her third year, thirteen years old, let out a gasp of breath and said in fearful awe, "Tom"?

"Yes," Tom answered with complete calmness. "Why don't you turn around and look at me?" Although in the form of a question, it was a really a command, and Myrtle knew that. Meanwhile, Eileen just walked closer to the two and coolly observed the situation.

Slowly, Myrtle did as he ordered, and looked up into Tom's smooth, handsome face. Tom gave her a piercing look, searching both of her eyes through the lenses of her glasses. "I see that tonight you're crying because you spilled your potion all over your uniform in class," Tom reported with a shallow emptiness in his voice, cause he didn't care at all for why Myrtle was crying. Eileen started to laugh a low, mirthless chuckle.

Myrtle nodded, while still hiccuping a bit. Then Tom leaned closer into her, with his right hand in the pocket of his robes and said, "If you don't leave in about five seconds, I am going to-"

But Myrtle was all ready running back towards the girls' dormitories, screaming. Tom smirked to himself and then glanced at Eileen.

She glanced at Riddle whose expression returned to its usual stable calmness. Riddle went quickly back to check something briefly and made a note in his used schoolbook.

Eileen went back to her desk to finish her studying. Tom slammed his book shut and then went over to Eileen. He looked down at her with a curious expression, evident on his lips.

He said suddenly, breaking the silence, "That chart is supposed to be encoded into the essence of seven."

Eileen looked down at her magical number chart and said softly, "Oh I see that you're correct….Tom."

Tom took the quill from her hand and started writing in the correct calculations. He was done in less than a minute.

Eileen was a bit taken aback, at how quickly Tom Riddle solved one of the most complex arithmancy problems. But she didn't say anything. Tom was easily the most brilliant student in the school, and most everybody knew it.

"I appreciate you're help," she said in a low voice, as she felt shy talking to someone so impressive for the first time. It was like meeting an idealized celebrity.

Tom did not seem to hear Eileen's note of thanks. Eileen got up, gathering her parchment, books, and quills, clearly wanting to go back to her dormitory, as she realized she was too tired to finish her schoolwork.

Tom watched her carefully, looking into her eyes, examining her mind every opportunity he could, without her realizing.

"So you're leaving Hogwarts tomorrow morning for Christmas like most of the school?"

Eileen was a bit surprised at his confidence and his lucid understanding of what she was doing. It was like he had read her thoughts. Then she remembered that the obscure branch of magic called legilimency, something she never had the opportunity to learn.

After a short pause, she nodded, forming her lips in a tight line, shivering a bit in the cold room.

Riddle knew Eileen was reserved and it would take time for her to open up to him. He was eager to see if she really could be some kind of asset for him.

"It is cold in here. We'll sit by the fireplace," he said simply as if it was just a cold hard factual statement. And in a transient flash, he drew forth his wand and aimed it directly at the nearest corner of the Slytherin Common room, where one of the small fireplaces provided the shallow warmth of the dungeon setting's atmosphere.

Fire erupted from Riddle's wand and burst abruptly forward, exactly where it was supposed to go. Eileen jumped slightly, stepping on her robes from the sudden action. She was both frightened and awed by Riddle's power.

The air seemed dense from that bit of magic. Eileen was not used to such overwhelming power. She had felt a sharp, searing crinkle on the back of her neck, as the flames erupted and burst forward.

Not only that, but for the second that the fire was near Riddle as it traveled away from him, she thought she saw a pale redness in his blue-gray eyes. But as she was tired, she discounted it.

She followed Riddle over to the fire to sit down with him. She thought it best not to disagree with him, and Eileen was curious why he was showing interest in her, when he already had a whole group of friends and admirers.

Eileen and Tom sat right across from each other. Riddle back in his favorite armchair, the one that first-years wouldn't dare sit in knowing how he seemed to own the strategic location for his group. Eileen sat next to Riddle, in the more comfortable, cushioned, velvet chair.

Yet Eileen really did not feel so comfortable, as she was often confused about her feelings she did not know why. She figured it had to do with needing sleep. But the real reason may have been Riddle displaying such focused determination to converse with her, in a manner of much more than small talk.

Of course they had each spoken to each other beforehand since first year. But it had only composed of things like a question about schoolwork here and there, or a quick hello in a corridor sometimes.

Riddle looked straight across, deep into Eileen's face, closing in on her brown eyes. His own blue-gray eyes lit up, and a small smile started to show as he asked, "Tell me Eileen…did that little bit of magic just now…excite you?" He spoke in a soft whisper, with a concealed fervor contained inside.

Eileen's dark eyebrows furrowed, from his surprising change of the tone of his voice, where before it had been charming, even amicable. This was a bit unsettling. "N- well yes I suppose," she said ambiguously. Yet she herself was confused, she thought she was frightened a moment ago. But now she wasn't sure where to draw the line between fear and awe, and if one even existed.

"How would you like to be so much more…influential than just being a Hogwarts prefect in Slytherin?"

"What do you mean?" Eileen said this all nervously glancing at Riddle's chest, where his silver-prefect badge was gleaming, with red specks on it from the firelight.

"Well I'm sure you would like to be noticed more for the talented witch you are" Riddle said this with such smooth conviction, as he already knew what Eileen would most likely want to hear.

Eileen sighed and shrugged her shoulders becoming more relaxed, "I do wish that I had some good friends. Maybe I do need a confidant. I normally keep everything to myself."

Riddle allowed her to keep talking, as he sensed intuitively that he had broken a barrier into her sensitivities. "You're right Tom. I wish people respected me more for what I can do. And it's strange, as I'm beginning to think you're the only one I could tell this to."

Riddle nodded. He was beginning to feel satisfied with how easy it was to play inside this girl's head. He felt satisfaction as he considered to probe her further. _Just another pureblood family to add into my plan_, he thought.

The next thing Tom said, he spoke as if some kind of amazing awakening was occurring "Do you know who I am? Do you understand whom you're talking with?"

Eileen inhaled sharply, as the way he said it disturbed her. She thought he sounded almost deranged. "You…Tom Riddle that's all. It _is _really you?"

Instantly, Riddle's expression changed. He frowned, his eyes bulged a bit, and his cheeks flushed, " Of course it's really me!" he almost yelled, as he made a sudden movement, closer to Eileen, who instinctively cowered back in her chair.

His voice went back to complete control again: "I am not **just** Tom Riddle. I've been uncovering the truth about myself since I've arrived at Hogwarts."

"What truth is this?" she dared to ask, as she was perplexedly curious.

"My powers as a sorcerer is unquestionably the greatest ever. " Riddle was now speaking as if entranced, and enlightened. Riddle was aware that he did not want to tell her too much, so he finished, "I'm not telling you anymore….until later."

"I still don't understand."

"You will when I allow you in with my…friends" he said friends quite sardonically. "But understand, that if I let you stay my orders are **absolute**."

Eileen felt her stomach cave-in and a bit of pain in her ribs. But too her, it was almost a pleasant sensation on some level, to be captivated by such an intense presence like Tom's.

"One duty I will call for is getting rid of the muggle-borns. Those filthy dirt-veined mudbloods. Myrtle has got to be the worst of them." He spoke of Myrtle with absolute disdain, almost as if she wasn't human, but just a lowly creature.

Riddle had not told any of his followers of this plan but he knew Eileen would never have the courage to accuse Riddle of something serious to the Headmaster.

When Eileen heard Riddle say get rid of, she simply thought it meant to make them leave the school. Riddle meant to actually kill them, and to reach the point of genocide.

Riddle had been marveling all along at the fact that she was another pureblood to add into the group. He felt like cherishing her blood, probably because she was the first witch to join him, even bottling it. "_It shall come to that if I use her for one of my_ _horcruxes_," Riddle was thinking at that moment.

Then Riddle decided subconsciously that Eileen was getting a bit too uncomfortable and he switched his mode of speaking back to being charming rather than intimidating.

Meanwhile, Eileen was thinking of what he had said about muggle-borns. Trying to think reasonably and fair-mindedly she gave her opinion, "Yes Myrtle is quite pathetic. Slytherin is no place for a muggle-born."

"Exactly." Tom answered, smirking again an air of confident superiority about him. "How will you be celebrating Christmas at your home? I'm sure it's splendid."

"Well… I'll see my cousins and Aunt Sylvina. Of course, there is seeing my parents."

"I don't have a home to go to or anyone to visit," Riddle was stating this purely for the tactic of making Eileen begin to feel guilty.

"Yes I know. I think everybody knows you're an orphan, right? I'm sorry..…But what happened to them?"

"My father deserted my mother because she was a witch. Then my mother died giving birth to me. I don't see why she had to die, when she was magic….I'm afraid I'm going to be terribly bored for the next two weeks" (he lied, as he certainly had something major to do).

Eileen was beginning to feel guilty about going away to have fun, where Tom was so strong, and so bravely alone, she felt admiration for him. Of course, Eileen did not know how he enjoyed being alone. And that Tom even liked to separate himself from others.

She decided she would stay with Tom over Christmas to keep him company. It wouldn't bother her anyway. She was certainly intrigued by him. There was something fascinating and mysterious about him that she felt an attraction to that was becoming irresistible.

Riddle waited to see if, he would need to try any harder to get her to change her mind. He knew he could use her for a lookout in his plans, for her to help him without realizing what he was doing.

Eileen sighed contentedly and said, "I'll send an owl first thing in the morning to tell my parent's I have to study for my OWL.s."


	2. Operating Alone

**Chapter Two: Operating Alone**

The conversation by the fireplace had ended a minute later. Eileen had risen and admitted she wanted to go to bed and Tom had consented, not admitting that he wanted to go to bed as well.

Eileen was feeling excited by this relationship. She wondered if Tom would go out with her on a trip to the village of Hogsmeade near the school. Riddle had no such plans. In fact, he was assuming Eileen was going to keep it a secret. Knowing Eileen liked to keep her own counsel, he felt no urge to warn her about it.

The next morning when Eileen woke up, she felt a jolt of excitement. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Christmas tomorrow. But it had everything to do with Tom Riddle.

Then she remembered she had told Tom she would be staying at Hogwarts. She hurried out of bed to dress. Without realizing why, she took longer than usual to get ready. Eileen applied a hair thickening charm and then make-up; the other girls had once given her.

Out of the Common room, she went straight to the owlery, walking out into the late-morning sunshine. It was a beautiful winter morning, with only a couple of inches of snow on the grounds. She used a school-owl to send a quick note to her parents explaining why she was staying. Then she went to the Great Hall, to have a late breakfast. Unfortunately, she did not see Tom anywhere.

He was very busy doing things on his own. 

First thing that morning, he ran into Slughorn, which was certainly not expected by Riddle. The moment he left the Common room he saw the Potions Master coming down the steps, back into the dungeon.

"Tom m'boy!" Slughorn greeted, jovially.

Riddle knew it was smart to act polite, "Hello, Professor."

"Come with me to my office, Tom and we'll have a drink," he automatically said.

Riddle walked down the corridor beside Slughorn, who as usual was in his high-spirits. "Looking forward to the Christmas feast tomorrow?"

Riddle was distracted as he was thinking about the thing he had wanted to go and look for, so it took him a few extra seconds to reply that he was.

"Don't tell anyone, Tom. But I got Professor Dumbledore another silver instrument. It's a light-putter outer," he spoke sweetly.

Riddle's eyes narrowed, at the mention of the teacher he hated and feared because Dumbledore had his own special powers, and that Dumbledore revered the kind of magic Riddle disagreed with as being worthy. And chiefly, because Dumbledore rivaled his own powers.

When they arrived at the door of Slughorn's office, Horace took his wand out and did the transfigurement that causes the door to appear.

Riddle already knew about the clever concealment that Slughorn used for the door, as his teacher had called him in for many other visits. This young man was Slughorn's favorite in his club. Slughorn proudly proclaimed to people many times, that Tom Riddle was the most brilliant he had ever had the pleasure to teach, but thankfully he had not said that in Tom's presence.

Inside his office it was small and cluttered. All sorts of vials and potion bottles and equipment and ingredients were clustered together, disorganized. There was also quite a bit of Slughorn's own personal effects strewn about. Boxes of crystallized pineapple, his favorite drinks, and some other ornamental like knick-knacks.

Slughorn rotund frame eased himself into his chair and then he poured a drink of mead for both himself and for Tom. He handed a glass to Riddle.

Slughorn took a big gulp of mead. Riddle watched, wondering what Slughorn's purpose was to talk to him. Tom then took a small sip of the wine, himself.

"By the way Tom, I was most pleased with the help you gave me the night we made the antidotes for my lesson plan," Slughorn said.

Riddle nodded, remembering how he had only spent his evening doing so, as a back up. It was to ensure his future plans. Tom was sure he could use Slughorn under his assumed reign over the Wizarding world.

"Professor, I have to leave. There is something important I must get started on," Riddle announced sounding unperturbed.

Slughorn laughed, his walrus mustache twirling upwards. "Another project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"

"Why yes, sir... How did you guess?" Riddle smirked a bit, thinking how ironic it was, that Slughorn had actually touched the surface of the real project.

"Tom I know you very well. I'm fond of you. You're like a son to me, and I know you'll achieve greatness one day."

Riddle turned around, as Slughorn said, "Don't forget the next meeting for the slug club. You missed the last one of term and it was a party," said Slughorn pouting like a child.

"I won't Professor," he said this coldly. For the first time, this teacher annoyed him. Referring to him as a son! Riddle did not like the idea; he liked to think of himself as alone.

Shutting the door, Riddle walked swiftly back up the main corridor of the dungeon and up the stairs toward the third landing on the main staircase. He knew it had to be on this floor, as he had already ruled out many other places in the school.

All afternoon, Riddle scoured the third-floor corridor. His footsteps echoing in the near empty spaces. There were torches lit at intervals on the walls, as well as well as several paintings. The people inside them kept gawking at Riddle and a few even made rude remarks. Riddle ignored them.

Finally, they left him alone after an hour. He had been doing some serious thinking his forehead furrowed.

He had finished going inside the classrooms and was examining the walls and the ceiling, the floor, and everything surrounding the long hallway. He came to the conclusion that it could somehow be connected to water maybe even the Black Lake.

He remained confident, although it was a test of patience. He thought, _no other wizard could do it but me._

At another point, the sleighs were outside on the Hogwart's grounds waiting to take the students to the train-station. More people came up and down the corridor for about fifteen minutes.

A seventh-year girl was passing Riddle as she said, "Happy Christmas, Tom!" and her gloved hand touched Riddle lightly for a fleeting second. Riddle stiffened, but then smiled and made wave of good-bye. He was a very patient young man when seeking his goals, and could remain at work even with distraction.

But he was becoming frustrated because he knew after years of searching the location and unraveling the many secrets of Hogwarts that he was right in the vicinity.

Other girls noticed him as well. Including a group of giggling third-years, which went by, batting their eyelashes and even talking a bit about him as if he wasn't there.

Finally, he decided to examine the girl's bathroom on this floor. Myrtle usually inhabited it, and none of the other girls would go in it because of her.

As Riddle understood that magic always left traces, he first started by whispering song-like incantations at the back wall, behind the sinks. Nothing happened.

He turned around and was facing the sinks. He had just come out of the trance-like state of trying to figure out if there was some kind of hidden magical entrance, when he saw the tiny serpents on the faucet a yard away from him.

He walked closer and glanced at them carefully. It seemed to be the true mark of Slytherin who lived over a thousand years ago, probably put back in this room, once modern plumbing had been introduced. In a few seconds Riddle was speaking parseltongue, the very rare gift of the ability to talk to snakes.

Tom Riddle then forced himself to look away and whispered, "Slytherin's mark. The chamber has got to be directly underneath here."

He felt a wild happiness, even though he knew he couldn't open the chamber right now or even later tonight. Riddle knew he would have to wait until a day after his sixteenth birthday of December 31st. For if he opened it while hardly anyone was in the school, it would be a lot easier to accuse him. Dumbledore knew he was a parselmouth, and furthermore did not trust him. Riddle could not risk the creature he knew must be down there (a basilisk), beginning to kill and attack before the entire school came back.

He stared back at the sink for several moments, burning with desire to open it now. He sighed and then left the bathroom. Since, he was very hungry, as he hardly ate anything today; he headed towards the Great Hall.

He was coming down the main-stair case, when he saw Dumbledore going up. Tom purposefully, averted his eyes from looking at the man. Not knowing, that this lack of eye-contact would actually make the Transfiguration teacher become suspicious.

"Good evening, Tom." Riddle glanced at Dumbledore, and pretended to be surprised to see him, "Oh, good evening, Professor."

Then he quickly looked sideways; as he did not want Dumbledore peering in his mind, when he had just been thinking about the Chamber of Secrets.

Dumbledore went up another step and surveyed Tom carefully over his half-moon spectacles and spoke gravely, "What are you _doing_ Tom? I leave the school for a few hours and you're off on your own again in secret activities."

"That's not true, sir I swear. I'm going down to have dinner in the great hall. ...That's all." Riddle said this all in a nice, innocent way.

"Look at me Riddle. Look at me."

Riddle looked straight at him, his face set determinedly. But if you really looked hard you could see the fear coming to fruition, from the expression on his face. Riddle gulped down his fear.

"A moment ago you were clearly wildly…happy about something. Were you not?" Riddle had obviously just used Occlumency, to conceal the thoughts, memories and feelings on the surface, so Dumbledore could not see it anymore in his mind.

After a few seconds Tom just shook his head, slowly and his expression now impassive.

"I know you're lying to me Tom. And I know you're up to something."

Riddle just gazed back at Dumbledore's face, with his auburn hair and beard with the same determination.

Dumbledore sighed with exasperation and went past, continuing his way up the main staircase. Riddle continued on his way down to the Great Hall.


	3. Introducing the Dark Arts

**Chapter Three: Introducing the Dark Arts**

By the time Tom had left the Great Hall, several minutes later, the sun was slipping beneath the horizon, and storm-clouds were coming in from the north.

Eileen Prince was not on his mind. Rather, he was thinking about reviewing and planning how he was going to encapsulate the memory of himself, into the diary.

When he entered the Slytherin common room there was only a few people in there. Eileen was sitting in the same seat; she had sat in last night.

She got up when she saw Tom and sprung forward, beaming. "Where have you been all day?" Then Eileen yelled, "Tom!" because he was heading quickly away from her and she wanted to see him.

"Helping professor Slughorn in his office," he lied as fast as he could, careful to give details.

Eileen continued to follow Tom into the tunnel that led to the boy's dormitories. Tom could hear her following until she stopped suddenly, clearly realizing maybe she was bothering him.

"I guess I'll just go and practice my counter-curses for the O.W.Ls."

It was the word "counter-curse" that gave Tom the idea, while he himself had been thinking about going in the restricted section later. "Stop!" he said in a commanding tone turning around.

"Come with me right now, Eileen. Then later tonight we'll sneak off to the restricted section to have some…fun," he said, half-smiling and laughing inside his head.

"Great!" Eileen said. Eileen now felt so happy and excited, that Tom actually wanted her. Just moments ago, he was starting to hurt her feelings, but now she was feeling better about their relationship.

In a few minutes, they reached the room that Tom shared with four other boys in his year. He opened the door where a sign was posted that said "fifth years."

Tom entered, with Eileen, smiling behind him. None of the other boys had stayed over the holidays, so Tom had the room all to himself.

Tom went over to his bed, in the far corner, and pulled out his trunk. He took his wand out, and performed the magic to open it. On top of a pile of neatly-folded clothes, were a few books.

"Here you can read this."

Eileen took a heavy and thickly bound book from his hand and read the title, _Magic Moste Evile_.

Eileen gasped in shock, "You read books on dark magic Tom?"

"I don't just read it; I _do_ dark magic... But there is no sense in telling anybody that. Who would believe that brilliant, wonderful Tom Riddle, so alone yet so brave would meddle in dark magic?" The sound of his laughter, echoed in the almost bare room.

Eileen frowned a bit from nerves. Deciding, whether or not she could still trust him, she squinted looking at him hard, "That's alright. I'm not offended." That was true, but Eileen would not admit, how she was now a little worried.

"I'm going to work on what I'm planning with this…notebook," he said taking it from the trunk. "You'll read the introduction to dark magic and I'll test you on it later."

"But why should I-"

"You'll need to know quite a bit about the dark arts, to prove yourself to my group."

Tom then opened his little, black notebook, now sitting on his bed. He was, writing information in it, while he consulted several pages of notes he had written on a long scroll of parchment, with strange markings.

Eileen started to read _Magic Moste Evile_, while sitting on a chair, right next to Riddle's bed:

_"The many varied art forms and the exact science of  
The most forbidden, yet enigmatic magic of all time.  
Encompasses the bewitchment of the body, mind, and spirit.  
Infamous for their ability to torture the body, possess  
the mind and sap the spirit of its powers. These are  
the Darkest Forces of Nature…."_

After a couple of hours, in which Eileen had read a few chapters into Magic Moste Evile, besides the introduction, Tom rose from the bed, took his wand out and performed some complex transfiguration.

Eileen was still diligently reading the book, her lips moving soundlessly, trying her best to learn it all. (Eileen was very intelligent, the sorting hat had briefly considered her for Ravenclaw).

A snap suddenly broke the silence, another second later the lights were extinguished. Eileen looked up sharply, and said, "What happened?"

Eileen screamed. She felt somebody's cold breath, breathing down her neck and a hand close lightly over her arm, "T-Tom? Is that you?"

Enjoying her fear, Riddle waited a few seconds. Then said teasingly, "Did you forget that we're going to the library tonight?"

Not expecting her reply he took her wrist lightly. His hand felt cold to Eileen, as he led her out of his room. She stumbled down the tunnel.

He had performed transfiguration to make him invisible, as well as a charm to muffle the sounds of his movements. Tom had taught himself how to do it in the middle of his first year and found it most convenient. He had never been caught by anybody. Dumbledore had informed Riddle that he could make himself invisible as well. He had also warned Riddle not to roam the school at night anymore, although Dumbledore was aware it was futile to tell him as he knew Tom wouldn't listen. For a while, Tom had stopped roaming the school at night; also wishing Dumbledore could forget his nightly activities. But by the end of the year, Riddle was aware he could detect invisible wizards, as he always had his mind in the legilimency mode. Riddle could use this to detect anybody with a brain, and that must have been how Dumbledore detected him. He learned Dumbledore's presence was particularly powerful, and very easy to detect, as he practiced with his eyes closed in normal circumstances.

"You're in-invisible? That's quite impressive…" Eileen spoke her mind. She was still trying to process what was happening to her. But it was all occurring too fast for her to really understand it.

"Yes. Now don't talk until we get to the library Eileen." Riddle answered in a whisper.

"But- I need to be invisible too. I don't want to get caught. I'm a prefect!"

Eileen gasped again. Riddle was no longer holding her wrist, or at least she could no longer feel it. She felt an unpleasant sensation, like her body was being compressed and then separated. Riddle had made her invisible.

They left the common room and walked nearly ten minutes up to the library. Riddle knew Eileen was with him, as he walked in front of her, and he could sense that her mind was there.

When they entered the library, Riddle stopped, and stood stock-still, scanning the environment, making sure Dumbledore was not present. He seriously doubted the transfiguration teacher would be out of his quarters tonight, on Christmas Eve. Thirty seconds later, he released Eileen from being invisible, and then himself.

Eileen went over to a table by the window, next to the Restricted section, with its rows of books all roped off and sat down. Outside, snow was accumulating on the sill rapidly, the wind was howling. The darkness seemed much denser and heavier.

Riddle calmly walked over to where she was, and sat down across from her at the table. With his wand, he lit the lantern he had found, magically.

"Have you ever looked in the Restricted section?" Riddle asked her, his voice sounding polite and the false, innocent curiosity evident.

"No. It's only opened to sixth years and above."

"I hope you're aware then, that you're missing a whole side to your magical education."

Riddle was playing with Eileen's mind in just the right way. He understood her personality. He knew that she was an intellectual, thirsty for knowledge, in a way similar to himself.

"How is that so?" Eileen asked slowly.

"The dark arts…_my_ kind of magic" he spoke as if he owned the rights to everything to do with the field. "I have a lot to show you Eileen. And you couldn't learn it from anybody else, really."

"But Dumbledore is certainly a great wizard and I don't think he would _ever_-"

"Dumbledore makes mistakes when it comes to dark magic. The defensive magic they teach us only _attempts_ to stop the dark arts, a force that has already been acted out. You can't stop _my _magic for it is eternal." He had been speaking again, like he had the other night with a fervor in his voice.

Eileen raised her thick eyebrows; she had never heard such a fresh, interesting perspective. For one thing, Riddle certainly did not voice these opinions in class. Eileen was becoming all the more fascinated and intrigued.

"Please. Tell me more Tom. I can't believe I never realized this" she burst out.

She was beginning to feel passion, like she had never before. Was this feeling a reverence towards dark magic? Or was it to the genius, Tom Riddle?

"I hope you're prepared. I said earlier I would test you on _Magic Moste Evile_… without knowledge of my kind of magic, it would be dangerous." He said this, to subtly appeal to her basic fears, of survival.

"Yes, I understood the few chapters I got through. Why-"

"Then you'll know how the dark arts evolves. Tell me how it occurs," he ordered in his calm tone of voice.

Eileen practically recited word-for-word from memory, "The dark arts are said to be evolving at a rapid, exponential pace…."

"Yes…The dark arts are omnipotent. Dark magic is always ready, always multiplying itself, and cannot be destroyed," he spoke in a mysterious whisper, emphasizing the word "always." He got up from the table and paced around in front of Eileen, twirling his wand.

"The theory explains that it will continuously split itself forever. Do you know why I hold this to the utmost importance?" he suddenly demanded. He bent close into her face, and shot a long look, straight in her eyes, waiting for her to answer.

Eileen was still trying to grasp the more abstract interpretation he had given, and she strained to think faster, "b-because you practice it?"

Riddle nodded appraisingly, standing up straight again. "Yes…but what is the essential purpose that I, the greatest wizard uses it for?" he said rather lazily.

"To…to have strength and to use… " She blurted out, rushing.  
Intuitively, she sensed that Riddle may act violently if she was wildly off the mark.

"To _use_ whatever means possible to have control. Dark magic is about power. The strong controlling the weak…are you getting it now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well yes…but why does Dumbledore say the lighter side is better?" Eileen was wondering what was happening to everything she had been taught in Defense against the dark arts. It couldn't possibly be trivial!

"It's a lie," he answered ardently. "The noble fool wants to brainwash us all into the good versus the evil. In reality, there is only power, good and evil are….illusions. You're ambitious aren't you Eileen?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a Slytherin," she said with certainty.

"Well… when you enter my circle officially, you _prove_ your loyalty to me in words and deeds, then I may reward you," he spoke in smooth deliberation.

"What will I be doing?" She was curious, what this would require of her.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now for…a demonstration of my powers," Riddle said with an eagerness present in his demeanor.

He walked over to the end of a row of books nearby that was not the restricted section. "Follow me over here," in a tone, empty of expression.

Eileen rose and walked past the windows, shivering slightly from a draft and stood beside him.

"Go over to the end of this row of shelves."

Eileen nodded and obediently went about ten yards to where he said. She turned around to face him. Riddle had his wand raised. She couldn't see his expression well in the ghostly-gray shadows of light, but she could tell he was deeply serious about what he was about to do.

"Wait!" she shouted. "You're not going to hurt me are you?" she said sounding desperately nervous.

Riddle laughed a few seconds and then said in a soothing voice, "No. How could I? When I have no reason for provocation at all?"

His wand cut through the air, so that an instant afterwards, a fiery red serpent erupted. It was hissing and steadily slithering towards her, with flames coming out of its mouth.

"Now Watch!" he said in the same tone he had used in the orphanage to Dumbledore when he said, "Tell the truth" and "Prove it."

Eileen gulped and put a hand to her mouth, shaking from slight panic. Then she started to compose herself, remembering how snakes can smell fear.

Riddle began to talk in parseltongue and Eileen had no idea what was going on. She watched as the snake abruptly turned its head and maneuvered itself to face Riddle.

This was one thing, Riddle liked to show off the most and was proudest of in terms of powers, was his ability to talk to snakes. From experience, whomever he decided to tell, was most impressed by this. And it was a very few, select group whom he would show.

Riddle turned his line of vision away from the snake and down the row at Eileen. "I've ordered the serpent not to harm you. Walk back to this end of the row and pass him."

"Why can't you just get rid of it?" she asked with a hint of begging in her voice.

"Because I don't want to," he answered evasively, not telling her his real reason.

Eileen bit her lip, and stared back wide-eyed. Slowly, her legs feeling like lead, she walked towards the serpent, which every time it hissed, drew forth small-flames that disappeared after a few seconds.

After just a few steps, the serpent turned itself around and was peering at her. It reared itself, like it was tempted to strike.

Eileen stopped walking. The snake was looking straight at her, with frightening intensity. She avoided looking at its eyes, as she knew that would encourage aggression. The snake did not advance, but continued to look like it was planning something terrible.

"I can't go on…" she started to whine.

"Yes you can and you will. I'm a parselmouth just like Slytherin himself. I've been talking to snakes for years, and they obey me."

He was really enjoying Eileen's fear, just like the snake he conjured and he liked telling her how he had powers that Slytherin had, but of course it was not the most ideal time to tell her he was the last descendent of Slytherin.

Eileen glanced at Riddle who had a grim frown on his face, as he was feeling determined to make her do as he asked at the moment. She looked in his eyes, and they somehow got her through the ordeal. She thought she could see in them his confidence and brilliance. They seemed to magnetically draw her forward, and it felt a lot easier to finish the task. She almost forgot the snake was there as she walked, cautiously. She felt blanketed and protected in Riddle's power.

Once she crossed the finish line, Riddle pointed his wand at the snake and muttered, "epera envanesca." The snake disappeared and it was like it had never been there, especially to Eileen. She looked up into Tom's face, her heart filling with admiration for his skills, his power, his everything.

Riddle saw in Eileen's mind that the task had achieved his purpose. The girl clearly trusted him, as well as being impressed with his parseltongue.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable Eileen," he said lightly.

Eileen sat down, relieved that she was at ease, unlike a couple of minutes ago.

Unexpectedly, Riddle waved his wand, aiming at her and then slashed at the air, chains appeared and enveloped around Eileen's arms, tying them to the armrests.


	4. The Blood Tester

"Relax…I'm just going to ask you some questions."

"That's all?" she said confused. "What are these chains for then?" The chains were wrapped very loosely around Eileen, she could easily slip her arms out of them. She was smart enough, not to try though.

Riddle put his wand back in the inside pocket of his robes. " Don't get smart with me. To see how well you do under pressure, Eileen."

She nodded. At least she thought she understood the reason Riddle was doing this to her.

Tom pulled a chair up and sat about five feet across from her. "Which subject of study do you like most at Hogwarts?"

"Um…I suppose potions. I know I don't have an ability like you when it comes to it. Slughorn says you're a natural Tom! But I have to practice to get it perfect. Maybe I'll open my own apothecary in Diagon Alley. Last term I was able to make veritaserum."

Riddle smiled and nodded. "Potions certainly is a respectable branch of magic." He had only brought up this light topic of conversation, to get Eileen to start talking.

"I hope you never used veritaserum on anyone. You would be breaking quite a few rules," with a hint of a threatening edge in his voice. Yet it wasn't that Riddle disapproved if Eileen broke the rules. He was elevating the conversation to a higher intensity.

"Of course I haven't!" she said, feeling mortified. "I only gave it to Slughorn, and he was pleased with it," she said more to herself. She was starting to feel a bit guilty about brewing Veritaserum, when the Ministry of Magic had such strict guidelines for it's use.

Riddle who could smell guilt a block away, pressed her further, "What school rules have you broken?," he looked straight into her eyes. Eileen felt like she was being x-rayed.

She was annoyed that he wanted to know this. But Riddle had several reasons. One was to learn just how ruthless and cunning she could be for him.

"None at all!" she said with a bit of defiance. "Except the slightest," she faltered, when she realized he would see right through that lie.

"You are going to tell me everything significant in regards to this. You've committed at least one serious infraction. If not more…Now tell me about it." Riddle took his wand out, and aimed his wand at the chains. They coiled upwards and wrapped themselves more fully around Eileen's arms and wrists, yet it still wasn't uncomfortable.

Eileen barely registered what he had just done. It was not what she was focusing on at the moment, rather it was a guilty conscience. She struggled to think clearly as she was becoming emotional. With shame she reported, " I hexed a girl so she would have warts on her face…because she kept saying to everyone that I was ugly."

A low, awful laugh was suddenly issuing from him as he said, "Did you get caught?"

"No, because I confunded her to think that she was ugly, and so she thought that was true, and also that she had caused the warts." Eileen felt even more shame, admitting to Riddle how many people thought that she wasn't that attractive. She wanted Riddle, an extremely handsome boy to think she was pretty, yet it was impossible to know what he had thought of this tale or for that matter her looks. Riddle did not even care about the humiliating experience she had just divulged. He only cared, that the worst thing she had used was a confundus charm. It wasn't dark magic, but at least it was a complex, difficult charm.

"Have you ever modified somebody's memory?," he inquired.

"No. I never had a reason to, Tom."

"Not even to a muggle. I highly doubt that," he sneered.

"No, I swear. I hardly ever see-," she started to rant. She was feeling like he was trying to get her to admit some horrible crime.

"What do you think of the muggles?"

"er….they're ignorant and…full of themselves. The stuff they use to make-up for magic, just shows how they really are…inferiors." This was Eileen's true opinion, she was not making it up to please him.

"You hate them….you want to hurt them," Tom said explosively as he took his wand out again and tightened the chains considerably. He was doing this as a sort of mind-game. He was pursuading her to think in a new way.

"N-no. I do not hate them. Oh! Please Tom." The chains were now much tighter and were starting to dig sharply into her skin, cutting off the circulation of her blood. Tom waved his wand again and Eileen felt something like an ice-cold, that was like a knife slicing through her chest. It was a hex used to make someone freeze on the inside.

"Yes you do….," he said in a firm, authoritative voice. "Say someone in your family was marrying a muggle. You would hurt that muggle, make sure they wind up dead. Would you not?"

Eileen flinched. "I'd try to stop the-the engagement."

Tom said, "You'll do more than that to them. If I ever tell you to torture a muggle – you will do it!," he said the last four words in his commanding voice.

Tom waved his wand again and this time Eileen felt the coldness go away and another hex upon her. It was a trickling hotness that seeped up her chest all the way to the top of her jaw.

"Yes, but how can I do it?"

"Let's say I just gave you the order, with no other instructions. Think what magic to use," Riddle favored giving hypothetical situations to his new servants.

"Maybe…" Eileen, wanting to get this over with spat out as fast as she could a poor answer, "a stinging hex?"

Riddle shook his head and jabbed his wand into her chest over her heart, to intensify the heat. 

The pain felt shocking for Eileen, "I don't know Tom. The cruciatus curse is illegal," she pleaded.

"Not in my circle. There it is acceptable, actually a regular practice...as normal as breathing," he whispered.

He let her relax a bit, loosening the chains, so that were not unbearable anymore. He even lifted the searing charm. He wanted to lull her into a false sense of security, to see if she had learned what he expected of her to think of muggles.

"What the ministry thinks does not matter. When I rise to power, the wizarding world will know my word is law."

She smiled feeling admiration for him again and her desire to get some approval and affection from him burst in her heart, so that it felt pleasantly warm.

He waited a few more seconds than asked, "So... do you hate muggles?"

"No..but I will Ow!" After hearing "no" Tom had instantly raised his wand, tightened the chains and then put the searing charm back on.

"Yes….I hate muggles!" she cried.

He kept the chains tight, but took the charm off her. He leaned forward sitting closer to her and asked, "And if I tell you to torture them you will?"

An ominous silence filled the air. Eileen answered meekly, "Yes, I'll do whatever you say."

Tom smiled an awful smile, feeling satisfied. "Good…." He simpered. "When the new term starts and I call for a meeting you willbe initiated. But first there is something else I must get from you for your ceremony."

"Wh-What?" she bawled. She wasn't sure she could take anything else tonight.

"Calm down. Taking a bit of blood never killed anyone," he said sardonically. To him blood-sacrifices, although crude were absolutely necessary to begin the application of practicing the dark arts.

He took something out that he had brought to the library, because he knew he would use it on her. It was a silver instrument, with a frame like a spider, with four legs, as sharp as needles. Then he took out an empty test-tube, with an opal in it for a stopper.

"Do you know what this is?"

"My family owns one," Eileen said with knowledable confidence. "It is a blood-tester. We use it to see how pure someone's blood is. You don't-"

"I got it from Rodolphous Lestrange, who has one in his family, as all the pure-bloods do," he said as held it gently in his hand and set the test-tube on a nearby table. In his other hand Riddle held his wand, as he undid the chains.

Eileen instantly rose. She did not want to sit in that chair ever again. She walked away from it, backwards still facing Tom.

There was a mechancial hinge, that Riddle wound up. Once he was finished winding it, Riddle grabbed Eileen's left arm and put the instrument in the palm of her hand. It scuttled up her forearm, disappearing under the sleeve of her robes. Riddle pulled up her left sleeve up, and they watched as the blood-tester drew it's four legs into her consuming her blood, and storing it in it's center.

It hurt, but Eileen did not yell this time. Her pain threshold was now a little stronger. And she was not disgusted by it either. She had seen, this little silver instrument sneak up guest's arms at her house when her parent's had set it on wizards, whom they wanted to analyze the magical geneology of their blood.

Within a minute it was finished. Riddle took the instrument. He turned the hinge the opposite way, to empty it and poured it into the small bottle, which filled to the top. Eileen was looking into Riddle's blue-grey eyes as he filled the bottle so efficiently. She felt a desire to receive affection from Tom, now to make up for the preceding unpleasant interactions.

"Let's go, it is nearing mid-night. We were here long enough," Tom said.

"But- But Tom wait." She suddenly held his hand, looking up into him, hoping he would kiss her. Tom squinted, a bit surprised. He did not force her hand off of him, rather he started to squeeze her hand hard, like a vice.

Eileen stood with just a few inches apart from him, and said sincerely, "I'm scared Tom. I'm afraid you're going to kill me. Please promise me you won't!"

Riddle gave her a hard, clear and calculating look. He spoke in his superficial glibness, "Eileen you are worth too much. I have no plans to kill you ever."

Although he hated to, he gave her what she wanted. He pushed her down on the table, and kissed her lips, roughly and briefly. Backing away he repeated, "Again it's nearing midnight and I have other things to do." That other thing, really only meant to sleep.

Eileen felt a sense of satisfaction. Maybe Riddle would fall in love with her. True, she knew he would be intensely possessive, but it would make her feel good. That first kiss, was just the beginning of him wanting to be close to her, or so she thought.

In a few minutes, they arrived at the common room. Eileen bade Tom good night, who did not return with a reply.


	5. Deal in the Darkness

Eileen woke up she went to the Great Hall for a light breakfast. She was not upset about last night, she was more overjoyed by the fact that Riddle had kissed her. To her it seemed genuine, as she had not even asked him to. She thought his passion was beginning to ignite and she expected him to be sweeter towards her soon.

After breakfast, she went to the owlery and got a message from her family along with a small package, which contained a present. It was a magical model of the solar system, about a square foot in length. Eileen sent a note back wishing her family merry christmas and saying that she liked it.

She then went searching throughout the castle for Tom. She tried every likely area for about an hour. Until she finally gave up. Riddle had not realized last night, that he had left Magic Moste Evile in her possession. Eileen took it back to her dorm and spent all afternoon alone reading. She was developing an insatiable curiosity towards the dark arts and she was beginning to question everything she had learned in defense against the dark arts.

Riddle, meanwhile wanted to be on his own. He had not received any gifts for christmas, but he hardly cared. The one thing he wanted to open, simply was not prudent to at the time. But he did go back briefly, just to look at the entrance and reminded himself he could open it safely on Janurary first.

By six o'clock he went down to the great hall as he did every year to take part in the christmas day feast. When he arrived, Dumbledore greeted him in a low voice, "Hello Tom…I hope your christmas is going well."

Riddle just nodded and said it was, in a colorless, expressionless voice. But his demeanor changed entirely when he saw the large purple waist-coated belly of Horace Slughorn slide in through the teacher's entrance. In a few seconds, he spotted Tom and said, "Tom! You can eat with the teachers at the staff table. Here sit right next to me."

Riddle went forward, slowly and sat on the left of the teacher who favored him most. A few students, came in amongst them was Eileen Prince. Professor Merrythought the defense against the dark arts teacher was there and the charms teacher professor flitwick.

Eileen was wearing evergreen colored dress robes, with long puffy sleeves, with gold embroidery. She looked prettier than usual. She went to sit at the front of the great hall, with some of the other students who were too shy to ask the teachers if they could sit with them.

"Excuse me professor," Riddle suddenly said. He got up quickly and stepped over to Eileen and put his hand lightly over her back touching her hair, "I'd love it if I could share christmas dinner with you at the staff table." Eileen nodded and smiled, blushing a bit.

She followed Tom up to the staff table, and sat across where Tom was sitting. Next to Eileen a couple of other students took their seats as well. Dumbledore was in his usual seat in the middle, while Eileen, Tom and Slughorn were on the far left when facing the staff table.

The first course that appeared was oysters and soup with wizard crackers. The wizard crackers would pop unexpectedly on their own. Slughorn was the first in the group to take a bite of the cracker and out came a green and silver umbrella, which he laughed uproariously over. Riddle was bold enough to take one, and the cracker erupted into a bouquet of roses.

Tom raised his eye-brows and looked at her. Eileen looked like she expected to get the flowers. He smiled and said, "Flowers for you Eileen. Merry christmas," Eileen blushed again and took them, putting two of the smallest roses in her hair.

Slughorn smiled, his walrus mustache curling upwards and said, "Don't get too smitten with Tom, Ms. Prince. We know he likes to keep his distance, even with the best of people."

Eileen smiled warmly and looked down, embarassed. Was it that obvious to others that she liked him?, she wondered.

Then she glanced at Tom, still smiling. He was gazing straight at her, with a keen interest. She peered into his blue-grey eyes for a few seconds as she thought about her family celebrating at home at the moment. Her shoulders quivered suddenly. Eileen had just seen a fleeting shadow of darkness in his eye's, yet she couldn't know what he was thinking.

Riddle had just realized that he could possibly strike a deal with Eileen that encompassed more than just being a follower of his group….He decided he could press her for details and any information she would reveal about her family later…

"Homesick, Eileen?" Tom said.

She nodded and Slughorn shifted his attention to her, "Did you have fun at my party for the slug club?" From the tone, one could see that Slughorn felt some pity towards the girl. Talented as she was, she was not popular and Slughorn had not even noticed her as a potential "favorite" when she had been sorted into his house when Eileen was eleven.

"Yes… that was quite a clever idea for entertainment, professor."

"It's called a masque, Ms. Prince. I suppose you had not ever been to one before?"

"No, but of course I have been at quite a few formal gatherings in my family," her voice sounding low, without confidence, as she is a shy person.

Tom was listening carefully, and he sensed that he could start delving into her family-life, especially now that she had mentioned it. He feigned a polite interest, "What kind of formal gatherings were they?"

"Well… one we have annually is on the eve of the summer solstice. Our wizarding tradition based on superstitiion."

Just then the main course appeared. Plates of ham and turkey, and steaming vegetables and shepherd's pie, etc. Tom was dishing some of the food onto his plate as well, and Slughorn was too. After Tom had gotten his food, he decided to help Eileen fill her plate.

Slughorn who was interested in Eileen eyed her excitedly asking, "The Princes do make excellent contacts. Did you ever have a wizard inventor named Quintus Raddock over who manufactures and invents magical devices?"

"No sir, I never heard of him," Eileen said in a low voice.

Slughorn looked a little bit disappointed but then went on hopefully, "What about... your mother she is the treasurer for the ministry?"

"Yes but-"

"And your father Ms. Prince is the chief healer at St. Mungos."

"Yes. He is really good at what he does."

Riddle's lips were smiling slightly as he glanced at Eileen because he knew her family must be rolling in money. 

Slughorn and Eileen continued talking about her family. She went into describing, Stonewall Estate, the place where they lived nearby the town of Big Hangleton.

Riddle only interjected briefly at times. He was aware that Slughorn could press her for exactly what he wanted to find out about her family, and nobody at the dinner party could start accusing Riddle of wanting to become attached and intimate with her.

Once dessert came Eileen was enjoying her Yorkshire Plum pudding and hot chocolate. Slughorn had gotten her out of her shell, and she felt better about herself from their conversation.

" I'm not sure of where to direct my ambitions Professor Slughorn. But as you were saying, I agree Tom is the most talented. He will achieve greatness! He told me he would be the most powerful and the"

Tom kicked her under the table, and shot a glare at her. Slughorn did not see his look of anger, but he did see Eileen grimace. Eileen had not meant to be so dumb to start rambling about his secrets. She had got lost in her admiration for him and she was not aware of it yet, but she was feeling a desire to speak about her ever-growing feelings for him.

He turned his head towards Riddle and said, "The most powerful what? What is Ms. Prince referring to?"

It was an awkward moment, but Riddle approached it with coolness, "The most powerful minister for magic, sir….Your advice about being in politics, caused me to consider it." Of course this was a lie, he despised government as he had explained to Eileen last night, he viewed it as a threat.

Slughorn raised both his eyebrows and sighed with relief, he was thinking of the time Riddle had asked him about horcruxes, and hoped maybe he had abandoned that interest. "Glad to hear it Tom," he cleared his throat, and pushed his chair back, a hand resting on his large stomach. "Very glad your setting your sights on normal endeavors."

Riddle had frowned because of the word "normal" and looked away from his teacher, as he knew why he had said that, and that incident was the last thing he wanted to think about with Dumbledore in the room. Slughorn perceptively picked up on Riddle's displeasure at normalcy and said, "of course you'll do things differently, I'm sure."

Riddle had a pensive look on his face, his jaw inclined up. He was still feeling angry. Slughorn said good night to them and that he had enjoyed himself, but he did not sound sincere. Eileeen glanced at Riddle confused, her forehead lined from worry. 

"Let's get out on the grounds. We need to talk," he said this in a whisper, but a forceful voice.

"Alright, but why not talk here?," she said with a hint of alarm in her voice.

Riddle's eye-lashes flew up, his eyes seemed to be lit with a fire. Her mis-understanding of his ways was angering him even more than her disclosure about him to the potions master.

Feeling a bit nervous, Eileen quickly rose and stepped off the platform of the staff table.

"We have to be alone," Riddle answered her question and forced himself to not show his anger any further as there were still people in the Great Hall, who may be looking at them.

Riddle guided her down the aisle of benches between the hufflepuff and slytherin tables. They walked at a fast pace and soon were in the main entrance hall. They crossed it silently and Riddle closed his hand over her arm.

They headed straight for the double doors that led outiside. "But wait after nine it is against the-"

"School-rules! My rules will be more important for you soon Eileen….besides nobody really cares about leaving the castle tonight."

She didn't say anything, but she did agree. She was beginning to hope that Riddle would kiss her again. That they were out for a nice romantic stroll and to chat about innocent topics. Although, she knew he was angry at her, she did not understand what he wanted with her.

When they got outside, it was very chilly and a light snow-shower was occuring. Riddle was not cold, he was wearing more than usual for the feast, as he could not afford fancy dress-robes. He had donned his black travelling cloak to go with his winter-robes for school, in order to look more stately. Eileen was beginning to shiver from the crisp night air, and she realized she had left the flowers on the table.

They went down the steps of the front of the school, Tom leading the way. He veered off to the left towards the black lake.

They were now walking down a steep hill, Eileen hurried to catch up and walk besides Riddle. When they were half-way down it, Eileen grabbed his shoulder, to steady herself as she had almost fell down.

Tom Riddle felt a surge of annoyance as he unconsciously viewed it as a violation of his territory. But instead of showing that, he decided subconsciously to take control, and put his arm over Eileen's shoulders as they continued going down the hill. Eileen viewed it as a sign that he wanted to protect her, and she felt happy that maybe he wasn't that angry with her.

When they got down the hill, they were no longer on such rough terrain to distact them, so they could talk more freely.

Tom decided to play it up as he had seen in her mind that Eileen was hoping for some romance. He would give her that false feeling, if only to get the thing he wanted with her. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they walked the perimeter of the lake, slowly.

Eileen was relieved. Maybe Tom wanted to forget what had occurred in the Great Hall?

"Tom…," she said tensely. He did not answer. "I'm sorry about what I said. It won't happen-"

She should not have brought it up. It reignited his anger. "It best not or I will make you pay. How thick are you, to start telling a teacher about my plans?"

"I got carried away. I didn't know I w"

"Exactly…You didn't know," he stated tersely, no symapthy coming from him at all. "Do you know," he stated with contempt. "What else I am…disappointed in, Eileen"?

"No….er the rules?"

"You still don't get it, do you?," he said.

"What?," she spluttered, becoming very uneasy.

"The way things are done. First, you never start telling someone my plans for rising to power. Second, everything is to be discreet. Accomplished in private. Finally, I told you my powers are absolute, that means my word is above school-rules with you!" He said this all very quickly and in a ugly tone of voice.

"Please Tom, have a bit of understanding. I'm new to this!," she pleaded. Eileen felt like she was going to cry. She was very afraid what would happen next, as she could sense his impending wrath and what he could do to her.

"Oh, I understand completely…" he said to her in an imperious tone. "That is the end of this discussion. Next time I will not be so kind Eileen. Take that as a warning."

She frowned, and gulped, looking up at him. She was starting to understand what she had gotten herself into and she felt a little panicky. But she was relieved that she thought Tom had a bit of understanding of the fact that she was new. She still had so much to learn. Or so she thought he felt understanding...

He really was not letting her off the hook, because he felt compassion for her. It appeared to her, that he was being merciful. But that really was not the case. He had only done so, because he wanted to be able to make a deal with her. He saw no reason to wait patiently, as he saw the circumstances of tonight, as the best time to tell her. He would make his move tonight...starting now.

"Was that all you wanted to talk about out here?," Eileen asked, without thinking how rude it sounded. Her hands were growing numb with cold as was her arms, where the wind was cutting through, causing her hair to blow in the wind.

"No!," Tom said brusquely, as well as a tone of selfishness to it. Then he quickly composed himself, back to his usual control, "When you talked about your family this evening, Eileen I realized how much…influence you have. With your father chief healer and your mother treasurer you have a lot of money and power. So I thought I'd ask if you could do me some favors. A smart witch like you could get me all the right benefits in no time." He said this all with just the right level of politeness, and calculating pursuasion. None of it was over done.

"Well…" Eileen stalled. "Of course I'll have to, as I'm going to be initiated. What favors exactly?"

Tom could see that, she was going to be very easy to bargain with so he said boldly, "I want to know about how you can use your family's….resources to benefit me."

Eileen's eye-brows rose in surprise as she looked at him, illuminated in the moonlight. She could see him standing beside her, with a thin layer of snow on his cloak. Yet it was the expression on his face that scared her. He had a hungry expression, almost unnatural.

"Er…let me think" She was still surprised about how forthright Tom had been with her. If it had been any other person, she would have told them off for asking for something like that. But this was Tom Riddle, an extremely powerful wizard and Eileen didn't dare challenge him. Tom waited, as they continued walking, now approaching the edge of the forbidden forrest.

After a moment she said, "Yes the Princes are influential. I could give you inside information on the ministry of magic. Contacts from anywhere within the government."

Tom nodded and then said, "You will have to do more than that. Maybe sell old family heirlooms for money to give to me. You'll go to any lengths….Do you know your family's safe number at Gringott's and can you access it?"

"Yes, I believe I am allowed to withdraw from it," she said. "But that would be almost stealing," she added with a note of complaint as an afterthought. "Can't I instead, find a way through my parent's and the employers at the ministry? I could make sure you're awarded the post of junior assistant to the minister after Hogwarts."

"After Hogwarts, I will never be in government! I have no interest whatsoever to!" he snapped. He was reminded once again of her still not understanding his superiority and specialness. "This isn't stealing Eileen. This is business," he spoke confidently, but still with derision. He was trying to keep her from questioning it.

Eileen still looked apprehensive. She was feeling fearful, as this would involve a lot of risk. If caught, she may even be in trouble with the law. "Whats in it for me, Tom?," she said sourly, as she shivered in the cold air.

"Don't worry about getting caught. I can show you how to go about it," he said reading her thoughts. "And then," he said, with his superficial glibness, I'll give you something you'll never forget. Your reward will feel like you've been reinvented."

Eileen almost gasped in shock, but held it back. She was now feeling a lump in her throat, yet she was too ashamed to show she was upset. Did Tom not like her just the way she is? She thought.

"Reinvent me?," she said sounding bewildered.

"I know your greatest wish is to look beautiful, as you think you would be accepted. I could give that to you as a reward, but only if you get me what I've asked for," he stated this all simply.

"But how?"

"Some of the followers will brew everlasting elixirs to change her appearance," he said more to himself.

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept through the grounds. "I'm freezing…Tom can't I wear your cloak?"

He did not answer. She started to cry a bit, from nerves. Tom sensed that she was still having doubts over what he had ordered her to do.

He decided to use any means to comfort her. So he swiftly wrapped her half-way under his cloak, which helped shield her against the worst of the winds. He looked her in the eyes, with a fierce intensity, "Just get me the money right after term starts."

"I will," she said, now smiling a little. Happy because she thought he still felt affection for her.

They went back towards the school, taking a closer route through one of the court-yards.


	6. Fire and Water

The remaining days of the holiday week passed by very quickly for Eileen. She did not get to talk to Tom or see him much. He seemed to be pre-occupied with something at the places she did see him briefly such as at dinner or passing through the Slytherin common room. Eileen knew she woud never be able to guess what it was. But after a few days, she was missing him. She felt like she had been abandoned by him. Tom Riddle was eager for the day to come that he would open the chamber of secrets. On January first, he had encapsulated the memory of himself not a day older than sixteen. By Monday, January fourth around midnight he had succeeded in opening and entering the chamber of secrets.

After the first class of the day, History of Magic was transfiguration with professor Dumbledore at nine thirty. As soon as class ended, most students were, glad to leave as this was the dullest class at Hogwarts. Tom Riddle had been amongst the first to leave the classroom on his own, without speaking to anybody. Eileen was still at her desk, taking a few more notes on what Professor Binns had said. There were a still a few people, taking their time to leave chattering idly about the new quidditch season. Eileen looked around, to see who was left and was sorry to see that Tom Riddle was not still taking notes as well. She jumped up, hastily grabbing her books and prachment and shoving them carelessly in her bag (which was not her usual way of doing things). Outside the classroom, she glanced anxiously down the corridor, but could only just see Tom, who was one of the taller people in the crowd turning a corner.

She sighed and thought that she could maybe sit next to him in transfiguration. She decided to get there early so she would be sure to be able to speak to him. In a little more than five minutes she entered the transfiguration classroom of professor Dumbledore's. Eileen took a seat in a row in the back of the classroom because this was the one and only class Tom chose the back rows. Dumbledore had just come in, and was humming to himself. He took his wand out, and aimed it at the curtained windows, and they opened letting the broad sunshine fill the room.

When he turned around, he saw Eileen was in the room, and gave her a slight nod of a greeting.

Eileen returned it, by asking, "What will we be doing today professor?"

"Transferring objects into portkeys," he said brightly. Eileen nodded and the corners of her mouth twitched in a small smile.

Just then Tom Riddle had come into the classroom. He walked slowly down the row to the left of Eileen, looking his usual self. But that was not entirely true. He felt a little bit tired from last night. He did not go to bed until three, after he returned from the chamber he had just opened. But this loss of sleep, caused in him an improved mood. This did not mean he was happy, just that he was a bit more likely to be rude, thinking how he believes he is superior to all others.

"Can you sit near me, Tom?" Eileen asked, sounding a little bit afraid from her low, cautious tone. She feared him, but she also felt addicted to experiencing her fascination with him. Tom turned, and slid slowly into the desk to share with Eileen. He did not usually sit with her in this class or any other. In transfiguration he normally sat in the back, and rarely gave answers in this class when Professor Dumbledore asked the class questions.

In a few minutes, the entire class was present. Dumbledore, needed no more than a few seconds to note this and mark in his records. "I hope everyone did their essays and did not forget to mention Isaiah Dawdry's new cleaning tonic." He chuckled lightly, and most of the class broke off into small titters of laughter.

Tom just made a slightly disgusted expression with a frown. He was used to Dumbledore's humor, and did not find any reason to take interest in it. It was not his kind of humor. Rather he thought at that moment, how funny it may look to him to see the very first mudblood petrified in the school, hopefully today. 

Most of the class had their essays ready and the ones who didn't quickly did so. Dumbledore raised his wand and all twenty of the parchments came zooming toward his desk, and piled themselves neatly on top.

Dumbledore began teaching. He gave a demonstration of the creation of a port-key. He said the incantation portus aloud, and the object glowed blue. Dumbedore explained that meant it had worked. He also explained that the maker of the port-key would be able to set the port-key down or hand it to somebody else without being transported unless they picked it up again. Riddle did listen to his teacher attentively, as well as Eileen. Eileen knew transfiguration was not her best subject, and maybe Tom would help her.

"We will be practing transfiguring as well as to un-transfigure objects into port-keys," Dumbledore said as he took a large box out from under his desk. "Everybody please come here to pick from the assorted objects to practice on."

In a minute, Eileen and Riddle had returned to their desk. Tom was holding a small brass kettle and Eileen an old muggle knick-knack.

Everybody around them was busy, some nearly shouting the incantation. Riddle just whispered it to himself. The first time he tried he did not get it, but on the second try it glowed a strong blue. He was very used to getting things right on the first or second try and was not too pleased with himself. But glad nonetheless, that he could think about other things now. Eileen who had failed so far noticed Tom's kettle being activated and said with enthusiasm, "I think you've figured it out first!"

"Of course I did! I don't need flattery from you," he scoffed scathingly. Eileen bit her lip and said in a small voice, "Sorry Tom. Are you angry again?"

"No!," he lied. "I will be if you don't get me what I told you to," he said fleetingly as he got up quickly and put the kettle back in Dumbledore's box in the front. Eileen recalled, how about a week ago on Christmas Tom had asked her to get him money from her family and any other resources he could benefit from.

Just then a Ravenclaw student (as the Slytherins had transfiguration with them) asked Professor Dumbledore, "Is it true, sir that some wizards can do wandless magic? Even move huge remote objects?"

Tom paused in his steps and waited for Dumbledore to respond. "Yes it is not uncommon to use such means. Especially when there is danger to avoid. But it takes a wizard of uncommon strength as well as skill to do it."

Dumbledore had one eye on Tom and the other on the Ravenclaw boy. He had sensed almost immediately, Riddle's interest and of course was not surprised.

Riddle flinched a bit, starting to feel irritable. He interpreted that Dumbledore was suspicious of his interest in the question posed by the Ravenclaw, Donald Grailite. Tom was a bit paranoid. After all, he had opened the Chamber of Secrets only just last night, using wandless magic. 

"What duels have you used wandless magic...professor?" Riddle said, aggressively, except for on the last word.

Dumbledore glanced sharply at Tom through his half-moon spectacles and sensed an undertone through legilimency that Riddle knew more than he was letting on.

Dumbledore spoke slowly as he was weighing every word being careful not to divulge, "On a few occasions, I've used it to combat wizards who are…quite powerful like myself but use their powers….differently." It was obvious to both Tom and Donald that it had be somebody who at least meddled in dark magic.

Tom dared to press him further, "Do you track and destroy whatever is set by this wizard?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, from surprise. Tom had just spoken so shrewdly, that the transfiguration teacher considered if he knew he was after the dark wizard, Grindelwald.

"I don't know where you're getting your information, Tom." it was not a compliment, quite the contrary. "I'm certain that I have no plans to actually alter any wizards affair's. We were discussing dueling were we not?"

Dumbledore had of course managed to take control over the conversation. But Riddle, sensing this struggled against it arguing, "Yes sir. But why leave the school so often?…I'm sure your departures are linked to the odd occurences reported in the Prophet."

Dumbledore knew what Riddle was hinting at. In fact, Riddle had been sure that there was a dark lord trying to rise to power for several months now. He was aware that this dark lord must be whom Dumbledore was currently trying to defeat.

"No. This is not something you need to concern yourselves with," Dumbledore said with firm finality, attempting to talk to both Tom and Donald. Donald was confused over what they were discussing as he was only just beginning to deduce what Dumbledore could be doing. As Tom gritted his teeth and grasped his wand in the inside pocket of his robes, the Ravenclaw leafed feverishly through his book on defense against the dark arts looking for a possible answer.

Tom felt a strong surge of annoyance. He believed Dumbledore was talking to him as if he was an insolent, meddlesome child. He spat bitterly to Dumbledore, "Show us the wandless magic right here!…I'd like to learn how it's done professor," he quickly added this lie about why he wanted to see the wandless magic to make up for his rude tone.

Tom had spoken in that forceful commanding voice, which he had only used to Dumbledore when they had first met in the muggle orphanage. It was loud enough that people in the class who had still been practicing making port-keys, including Eileen were suddenly paying attention.

Dumbledore was feeling a little angry at Riddle's lack of respect, but ignored it for the moment. "Very well. I'm warning you that this will be more impressive than when I frightened you with a burning wardrobe," he said with a hint of sarcastic ease, yet still sounding unperturbed.

Riddle's insides burned with white-hot anger at this slight, but he knew it would be very unwise to retort. Dumbledore raised his voice, booming with energy, "Everybody stop practicing ….I'm going to show you all something special, but you must all go over to the ledge," he said pointing to the right towards the window, where the morning sun was still streaming in.

Within a few moments, all the students were standing by, or leaning against the window's ledge as it was obviously an exceptionally large window. The only individual who snaked his way to a shadowy alcove, beside the several, heavy shelves of books was Tom Riddle.

The class all watched with excitement as Dumbledore walked swiftly up the rows to the left of the classroom, standing tall with his wizard hat and reddish-gold robes gleaming in the sunlight. "This is a bit of wandless magic to manipulate distant targets, I'm about to show. If you ever attempt this, I advise only in desperate circumstances, unless you have experience, for it can be dangerous," he spoke in his normal lecture voice.

He turned around suddenly, raising his right arm upward and several of the on-lookers drew their breath in, from anticipation. As soon as Dumbledore started, Riddle observed the change over his teacher in his expression. He had become electrified with power. Tom couldn't help but admit to himself, that Dumbledore is indeed a most notably able wizard.

In a few short seconds, the eight-foot high wooden bookcase was sliding from Dumbledore's wandless magic. His long fingers spanning it all the way to the other corner of the room, passing the alcove. The motion of it's traversement was clean and controlled. Once it stopped moving, a roar of applause ensued.

But out of nowhere, emerged Tom Riddle. He darted out of the alcove, his black robes and cloak whirling. Quick as a flash, he had his hand raised, and in a few seconds the bookcase started shaking like it was in an earthquake. A few more seconds, and it heaved itself across the marble floor, back to where it had originally belonged. Eileen had turned even paler with shock of Tom taking an action, that would get so much attention. She understood that he had never drawn attention to himself in such a grand way before, nor had he wanted to until today.

Dumbledore did not intervene immediately. But then, he aimed his hand once again and started concentrating. There was a crinkle in the air, like heat was emanating from him. The bookshelf swayed ominously and a few people yelped. It started to move back to where Dumbledore had it moved before. Riddle began to use all his powers of will and magic to continue fighting. Just as a cold-hearted sensation urged through his veins, the sunshine was suddenly blotted out of the room by a mass of clouds in the sky, casting the whole room in a gray shadow.

The bookshelf remained stationary for what felt like an eternity to the students watching, transfixed. Eileen was more reactive than anybody else though. Her teeth were chattering from chills she was getting, and her brown eyes looked stricken with a hazy wonder.

Dumbledore and Tom Riddle remained across from each other. The state of this, was like a mergence of the powers of good verus evil. It was just getting to a stalemate, when a burst of strength rose upwards out of Dumbledore and the bookcase nearly leapt over to where he wanted it to be, some of the books falling on the floor with a loud thud. Dumbledore's eyes gleamed from his victory, yet he knew not to reveal that to Tom Riddle at all. He continued to use wandless magic to place the books back on the shelves.

Feeling temptation to start a duel with Dumbledore from what he saw as a humiliating experience, Riddle withdrew his wand again. Yet really, he was not planning to do anything as he knew that would be pushing it too far. Dumbledore did not notice as he had his back turned, putting the books back, hoping this to be over.

As soon as Dumbledore finished, sparks were flying out of Riddle's wand and then they transformed. He could no longer conceal, his enragement over his loss. Out burst a murky greenish-red magical something. A whole bunch of people were screaming "fire!" and some were yelling "water!"

Riddle's expression on his face was the ugliest frown, his jaw sharply inclined, his hollow cheeks fevered. He turned on the spot, searching for a place to direct the fiery-liquid.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had summoned the small phoenix door-knocker at the entrance to life and it was flying. Tom luckily saw a vase, several yards from himself and he aimed at it, spilling perfectly into it.

Students began to flee, as the chaos was too much. The fiery-liquid stopped coming out as Riddle became calmer. But a second later, the stone vase was full, so that it was protruding up in the air like a spiraling fountain. People continued to run and scream, as they left the classroom, their hands covering their heads.

The artificial, baby-sized phoenix magically began to swallow the flames from the fountain. With another flick of his wand, Dumbledore had to have the stone-phoenix to shatter into pieces, as it could not burst into flame to extinguish the fiery-liquid.

Now that it was over, the silence was terrible. Only Dumbledore, Tom and Eileen were still present.

Dumbledore had a blazing look on his face, and he walked slowly towards Tom looking him straight in the face. Tom gulped and blinked hard, but did not back away from him, nor did he glance away from him. Eileen took a step backwards and looked down instead of at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore spoke in a very disappointed voice, "Your interference was completely inappropriate. Furthermore, you were rude before the incident. Explain your endangering of your classmates with your usage of combined incantations?" Dumbledore knew it may not have been intentional, but he did not wish to suggest it, just in case it wasn't.

"He didn't do it intentionally, professor," Eileen blurted out. "I saw it happen all on it's own. I think it happened from uncontrolled-."

"Thank-you Ms. Prince. But I need to hear it from Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said sounding almost polite.

Riddle looked like he did not want to answer the question as he said slowly, "I lost and was angry that I had not used my powers better," and heat began to rise up Riddle's neck from embarrassment of re-living it.

"You were not supposed to try to compete …But did you mean to produce a double incantation?," he quipped sharply.

"No professor," he said firmly in an icy tone, looking him in the eyes.

"I see ….thirty points shall be taken from Slytherin for the reasons I just mentioned." Tom shrugged his shoulders, feeling slightly relieved. Dumbledore continued sounding very grave, "I have a half a mind to take you to the Headmaster and tell him the truth. Undoubtedly, Professor Dippit will hear the story from others, but of course it won't be accurate."

Tom bit his lower-lip and then thought of faking a grand apology, but immediately he knew Dumbledore was the only teacher he could not charm. "But sir, I promise that I will never do this again," Tom spoke his mind instinctively trying to find the best way to convince Dumbledore, without charming how to get him not to see the Headmaster.

"That you won't blatantly challenge my authority, as a teacher I believe you wouldn't dare to once again. On the other hand, you'll never drop your desire to show your powers, and to be seperate of others….And I deduced you were tempted to duel me."

These words were so very surprising to Riddle, as Dumbledore had hit the hammer right on the head of the nail, when it came to his mind. Eileen realized from this statement, that Dumbledore knew something of Tom Riddle more than the other teachers.

"Detention would do you no good, Tom. But I wish there was something to stop you from going too far in your quest to rise to power. I wish there was," he said sadly. "….you may go," he added.

Eileen followed Riddle, (who had sneered from Dumbledore's final comment) out of the room and into the hall-way, where they were both had only five minutes remaining before Potions class.


	7. Desires and Revelations

By the time, Tom had left potions, a quarter of an hour before noon, he was sweating a bit. He couldn't be sure if it was the flames under the cauldrons and the simmering heat of the concoctions in them, or if this sweating was from nerves. He was having a very stressful day.

He hoped that the release of the basilisk within the school through the chamber last night, was not going to have the first attack today. It made him quite paranoid to think of the possibility of being accused. It seemed much more likely to happen on a day like this, where he was getting more attention that he ever had, for quite a presumptuous reason. Tom just wanted things to get back to normal, so he could retreat into his usual life of secrecy, with primarily only socializing with his group. He thought that at least Eileen Prince was not following him around. She had had the sense to leave him alone, after the chaotic scene in transfiguration this morning.

But he was not as alone, as he thought he was, when he had taken a longer detour to the Great Hall to avoid the crowds. Avery appeared from another corridor, into the one Riddle was walking through. A second later, Rabastan Lestrange was also with him.

"Wait for us!," Avery said hoarsely, as he sped up, with his bag swinging over his shoulder, as he ran and Rabastan followed him.

Tom knew, that they probably had followed him from potions, to see where he was going. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. Riddle had just shared a table with them, and had had heard enough of their silly problems for the day.

Once they were near, Riddle said testily, "What is it? I have better things to do right now, than to engage in small-talk." He was trying to make it clear, to these two followers, that he wasn't in a great mood.

"What made you want to duel Dumbledore?," said Rabastan with such an eagerness it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, they had all been present when it happened.

"That was not a duel….All it was, was proving I'm at his level. Dueling Dumbledore in the future, I will make sure to overpower him," Riddle added the second sentence more to himself. Then he said, "Forget about it!"

"You almost won though," Avery interjected, his voice sounding mild, not enthusiastic like Eileen's. "I don't think I could forget this. How mad was-"

"I told you," Riddle said rigidly, "Not to talk about it until they ask. It's bad enough that it's spreading right now in the Great Hall. Make sure to say something like the reason I intervened with Dumbledore's wandless magic was because the bookshelf looked like it would fall on me," he said this all with furious impatience, as he knew it sounded somewhat silly.

"Why?" said Rabastan, who always spoke his mind.

"Think Lestrange! I don't want the teachers, especially Dippit to know I was being defiant to Dumbledore's authority," he answered, sounding imperious to their intellects.

Both Avery and Lestrange nodded in agreement. Then Avery changed the subject, "I heard that a beater on our quidditch team is being replaced. I think I'll try a strategy of black-mailing the captain to get me on before try-outs," he said in a drawling voice.

Rabastan showed some interest immediately, saying how he wished he was more talented at flying. But Riddle was hardly concerned at this, until he realized several seconds later, "I'm telling you it's best not to be on the quidditch team. It may interfere with… my schedule."

Avery argued sullenly, as if he was discussing this with his father, "Why can't I?… Quidditch practices are in the afternoon and our meetings are always at night."

"If this Quidditch gets in the way of any order, I will not show mercy to you," Riddle said with a dangerous, edge to his voice. It was also obvious that he had little understanding of how fun playing on a Quiddtich team could be. 

Avery just stamped his foot, in agitation, and said obstinately, "If it does I'll resign!"

A few seconds later Lestrange spoke, "When is the next meeting?"

Riddle answered this immediately, "Spread the word that I'm calling one for Friday. The usual hour. An initiation ceremony," he said the last few words with a strange fervor of excitement.

Both Avery and Lestrange's eyes had become round. It was true that, this would be a lot of fun to them, as new members were very easy to take advantage of. They were now walking down the main staircase.

"What will you have him do, once he gains passage?," said Avery quickly.

"I'll leave it up to everyone to decide," Riddle said charmingly with a lop-sided crafty grin. Yet of course, he would make sure he was still leading it. Just as he was leading, his two "friends" into the Great Hall right now.

Entering the double doors, they saw that the room was buzzing with conversation, and not just in individual houses. Surely, by dinner the whole school would know what happened, but somehow Tom felt it did not really matter much. He was not one bit sorry at what he had done. He felt no guilt whatsoever.

The day slipped by to the rhythm of a denouement as it drew to a close, in which Tom Riddle felt relief to see it end, for it had not been one of his best days at Hogwarts, despite the legendary chamber had been opened by him last night.

After lunch he had had Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures class, and that was all for Monday. He felt his usual coldness, and lack of affection brewing for his so-called friends whom he had socialized with mostly today. They were not as wonderfully enjoyable to him, in comparison to having Eileen Prince. Tom Riddle almost laughed aloud, as he sat in the Slytherin Common Room, gazing strangely into the fire thinking about Eileen, meanwhile surrounded by his entourage. He knew she had such a passion for him and a desire to please him. Her loyalty to him was humorous in a very dark sense to his point-of-view. Tom thought analytically, I am shaping her feelings, to make her potential to serve me.

The problem, that he is oblivious to is the depths of Eileen's desire for him, that was ever-growing. Eileen was falling dangerously in love with Tom Riddle, but Tom was choosing to forget and ignore all the instances he saw that were indicating her love for him. Because of course, Riddle's philosophy was that love had no power against the real forces that mattered in the universe.

A half-hour later, he was back in the great hall at six o'clock for dinner. By now, the entire school had heard fragments and pieces of the truth mixed with wild rumors, of what occurred that morning between Riddle and Dumbledore during a fifth-year transfiguration lesson. The dramatic rumors mixed with truth was fleeting back and forth over the four, long house tables. At the far left, the several Slytherins gave their story, and on the far right were the Ravenclaws also telling what they witnessed.

Tom was dreading Armando Dippit's almost certain curiosity for what had transpired and the inquiry that was sure to happen soon.

So, when he saw the Headmaster briefly nod a curt greeting to Dumbledore, his heart was sinking into his stomach from nerves. What if, Dumbledore did change his mind and gave the full account? Meanwhile, Eileen Prince, was chatting with her one and only girlfriend who was a sixth year, whom she had nearly reached excellent terms with.

As he took bites of his baked potato, Riddle kept glancing every few seconds at the Headmaster standing in front of the staff table, and he watched as Dippit walked over towards Horace Slughorn. They talked together for a moment, and Riddle looked away, deciding that he really was off the hook.

But then a minute later, Professor Slughorn was confidently leading the way past the torches against the wall, with the pointed windows high above them, and Professor Dippit following in his tread. Neither of them looked angry, but still Riddle put his guard up, ready for difficult questions. He clenched his teeth, and automatically closed his mind, and subconsciously chose to employ his smooth-talking charisma.

Slughorn spoke first, "Don't look so worried! You're in no trouble. We're here to congratulate."

Riddle raised, an eye-brow in cool surprise, and he relaxed a bit.

Dippit looked down at him, his head to the side, inquisitively. He was a thin, older man, with beady-black eyes, and tufts of grey hair sticking out of his cap. He was wearing black wizard robes with white edges on the sleeves, and a high, white collar. He had an air of properness about him, but also a genuine sense of normalcy with a peaceful temperament.

"I apologize Mr. Riddle, as it seems you were, quite frankly…" he made a small guffaw. "Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dumbledore told me your interference with his demonstration was acceptable," he said this all with a note of symapthy in the tone he directed at Tom Riddle.

"Well, great deeds do come of great causes, headmaster," Riddle said with sheer confidence, clearly realizing he had Dippit's respect. "There was no choice in that-"

Dippit nodded twice as he interrupted, "Too true, too true boy. Your deeds had cause. I heard from…most that you were justified in protecting yourself. However…" he suddenly added on a seious note, like he was offering advice. "Some students appear to be...I dare say, jealous of your aptitude," he said then added more as if convincing himself, "There is no need to listen to their abominable misconstruing. Why I believe, you will become as great as Dumbledore, Mr Riddle!" Dippit said the preceding sentence with positive enthusiasm.

Riddle smiled mechanically and said with false warmness, "I thank-you for your compliment, sir. Dumbledore is an extremely talented-," Riddle started, picking his words carefully.

"Of course, you hold him in high esteem. But how do you consider Dumbledore? A fond, mentor of yours, correct?"

A shadow had passed over Riddle's face, for a full second there was a darkness, evident on his pale complexion.

Riddle had opened his mouth, about to lie, when Slughorn out of nowhere spoke, "We'll finish supping up over dinner now, won't we? Armando made a toast to your bright future and what you'll do to help magic-folk just before, Tom."

The shadow reappeared somewhat, along with a startling knowledgable look in Tom's handsome features as he responded, "I do have some marvelous plans in mind…."

Slughorn, put his hand around Dippit's shoulder and they were going back towards the staff table, when Dippit added, "We'll be sure to talk again! A model student like you."

Riddle just smiled oddly and continued eating, feeling better than he felt all day, his head teeming with energetic speed at the plans he had in mind. Five minutes later, he left to go to the library for some studying.

Riddle was studying in the library for potions looking up the information that was his homework, which was to analyze ingredients. It included description and determining measurements and classiying them. As he had been in the library over an hour, quickly completing the homework he had been assigned that day.

He was in a dark corner in the back with only a light above his desk to the side, but which gave him a good view of the entire large room of the library. As most of the library was empty, except for a half-dozen people quietly studying, when he saw movement at the other end of the room, out of the corner of his eye, he looked up.

There was Eileen Prince, she entered and made a sudden turn through the jungle of rows of shelves. Riddle had important things to tell her, so as soon as he saw her, he efficiently put his books, parchments, and quill away.

Then he got up and followed, going for the exact row she had went in. He saw that she was not at the other end of the several yards of books. He turned back and went up and down the rows, casually searching for her, It seemed like he was hunting down his prey.

Eileen was concentrating hard, her dark-eye brows scrunched, leafing through books looking for more information on the dark arts, as she still had her curiosity peaked from the night at the library before Christmas. 

Even though she could not go into the Restricted Section, she knew there might be some limited hints. She had become suspicious of Tom, so she was also going to do the research on the consequences of her "reward". She wanted to be sure it would not backfire on her. Even though she was paranoid about his behavior, she still felt every bit of hope and desire for him she had before.

Finally she wandered over to the last shelf, in that area of the library against the wall. It was the darkest in this area. She went over to the corner, because she knew this area probably had the information on everlasting elixirs, that she remembered him muttering about.

As she soon found started reading, she discovered it was mostly about description of the everlasting elixirs, and not the effects, for very few wizards had ever ingested one. Some of the more simple ones were everlasting fire. It took the combination of many other primal elements of both magic and nature to create a more complex one. She saw there were elixirs specifically for eternal youth and beauty without immortality (this one appealed to her the most). But even some silly ones like eternal growth, eternal sleep, eternal gaze, etc.

As she read carefully about the most intriguing elixir, she heard somebody walking down the rows, but she couldn't tell where. Eileen stopped reading, and looked around. She was not afraid, more offensive, thinking of the girls she did not like that she had to share her dormitory with. It was a sense of distrust she had with most people, and she did not want to have her back turned in the shadows of the library in the evening if, someone was sneaking up on her.

A dark figure came out of the other row in front of her and walked closer. A second later, out of the semi-darkness and the shadows Tom Riddle stepped into the light, looking straight at her. Eileen closed the book that was open in her hands, and put it back on the shelf (she would get it later). Then said, "Hello, Tom," in an almost friendly way.

"We didn't get…alone time earlier. But now is our opportunity. We'll leave here and go somewhere deserted," he said quietly, and only a trace of his superficial glibness.

She followed Tom, when he suddenly started walking down the rows and back to the exit. Eileen was feeling apprehensive, but also excited as she usually did when it came to being with Tom Riddle.

Within several minutes, Riddle lead her to the bathroom where he found the entrance into the Chamber of Secrets. He of course, had planned this as the best place to talk in private. Eileen sighed, and followed him into the hollowness of the bathroom, with it's high ceiling.

At the other end there was a short figure of a girl, hunched over one of the the sinks. She was looking into the mirror, as tears fell down her face, mumbling to herself indiscernible words. As she heard someone come in, she automatically looked up, and the eyes behind her spectacles became wide with fright from what she saw in the reflection of the mirror behind her. She cried out, as if in pain, and turned on her heel.

Tom Riddle was there with Eileen at his side. He laughed high and cold, as Mrytle continued to sob, now more afraid than depressed.

"Get out of here mudblood! If you know what's good for you," he said in a disgusted tone of hatred.

Mrytle did not need telling twice, she had already sprinted out the door. 

Tom continued to smile savagely, then said, "Silly little girl, I'll give her something to cry about," he muttered more to himself.

Then he focused back on Eileen, he looked at her as if she was an object, appraising the possibilities he had already seen in her. "I asked for money or at least some valuables a couple of weeks ago. Do you have anything?," he asked cooly.

"No…but I haven't even been initiated. Can't it wait?" she said a bit defiantly with some anger.

Tom made a threatening move towards her. It was like he was closing in on her. "It can. But after your initiation, you have got to start working harder. You don't have it, by the next meeting after that…" he paused.

Eileen thought he looked terribly intimidating. "What, Tom?" she said begging him to tell her.

"The whole group may attack you, if I order them to. Or-"

He made another step closer to Eileen, she was now leaning against the wall beside the row of sinks. "I alone will make you suffer ….in private, which is surprisingly worse."

Eileen gulped and said, "I'll have something for you. I will!" she said more to herself, desperately trying to convince herself in her mind.

Tom felt satisfied, and Eileen could feel that was so, because the hardness of his handsome features softened a bit, after her answer.

Eileen made a sudden movement to the side, trying to escape as she was feeling trapped once again. Tom saw it and with quick reflexes grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall, hard. Eileen smiled and looked nervously at Riddle, biting her lip.

"It will not be easy to pass the ceremony. The followers will want to bully you," he stated this as a bland fact.

Eileen felt a surge of fear, rise up her stomach into her chest. Her heart beating fast, "But you'll stop them for me. Won't you protect me Tom?" she said, only half-hoping.

He sneered with doubt and raised his eyebrows a little, "If it's useful to. But if not, I certainly won't make them stop," he said.

"Who are they?" she asked in wonder, eager to know.

"I can't tell you their identities. You won't know until you've made your vow…", Riddle said sounding superior."You will conceal your face with robes and a mask I'll give you beforehand," he spoke authoritively.

Eileen looked Tom straight in his blue-grey eyes and took a deep breath, she was about to ask questions of where and when. But Tom Riddle answered the thought in her mind.

"Friday evening. Eleven o'clock. I'll accompany you to the Forbidden Forrest."

Eileen felt her whole body fill with terror at the thought of acromantulas, werewolves, and all the other wild beasts that lived there. "But what about---th-the dangers?"

"I know the safest locations. Only initiations are held in the forrest, not the other meetings," said Riddle.

"And the centaurs…they'll attack us?," Eileen said feeling rising panic.

"No. Once they were present, and all they did was look on because they don't interfere with wizards' lives….It will be quite a night for romance, Eileen," he said with obvious humor.

Eileen picked right up on his saracasm, "You know it won't. It's dangerous. And that reminds me, it really hurt my feelings when you said you wanted to re-invent me!" she said.

"Why?," Tom said in a deep tone. He felt inquisitive about this sudden revelation, and he wanted her to keep explaining.

Eileen for a moment, was shocked at how open she had been with her feelings. She was usually too embarrassed to admit, when she was upset. But then again, she felt close to Tom Riddle. Yet right now she was a mix of her love for him, with her own righteous anger.

"It was insensitive of you to say that you'll change my appearance magically. Isn't it good enough that I'm pure-blood for you?"

Eileen was partially revealing her attachment to him. Tom did sense this, but he felt no attachment to her whatsoever, nor any real caring for her being vexed by his plan for her reward.

He leered at her, looming ever closer. By coincidence, she had struck the right cord to get his full attention. Her mentioning her being pure-blood, reminded Tom deep down how he is not.

Eileen regretted being so assertive to him, especially when she was stuck in his grip. She was pinned to the wall, as she knew from her prior attempt that she could not escape.

"Of course it's enough!" he said aggresively. "Yet you still think that I, Tom Riddle care what you look like?," for once, he stated exactly what he was thinking.

"Yes, you do," Eileen whispered aloud, what she realized was merely a wish.

"No. Nor will I ever. I don't set store in that rubbish," Tom scoffed, shaking his head, speaking plainly.

Eileen was starting to cry from this revelation and Tom Riddle knew it. He observed for a few seconds, with a satisfied expression. He saw her face fall, in disappointment than to despair.

At just the right moment, Riddle changed tactics and manipulated her mind back to thinking of her reward,"But that's what you want Eileen. To look beautiful. Your deepest desire," he spoke softly, smiling at her.He was selling the idea all over again. Yet he didn't know that he was rubbing it into her heart, making deep impressions.

He gazed strangely at her, almost hypnotically. It was like he was putting her in a trance. He moved ever closer, whispering into her ear, "You'll be my most faithful once I reward you. You'll want me and nobody else."

Eileen blushed crimson and her mouth was struggling not to smile as she still felt upset. But from those words he just spoke, Eileen was glad to sense the under-current of a promise of something much more intimate.

She was now vaguely aware that he was manipulating her, but still torn between too many emotions. So she had to be taken in.

"Okay, Tom," she agreed complacently. She looked away from his startling gaze for a second, as the light in his eyes was scary to her. She thought for one second of telling him that she loved him, but decided to wait for another time. But she glanced back at him,and thought how wonderful it would be if he would kiss her again, or show any other affection.

He knew she was thinking how she wanted affection.  
Being a good actor, he took a handful of her long, dark hair in one hand while embracing her lightly, and kissed the top of her forehead, "I won't be so…tender during your initiation...Good night and good luck," he said charmingly. He then let go of her, and swept out of the room.

Eileen was now alone. She moved very slowly, as she was very confused and unbalanced. She turned around to look in the mirror at her reflection, pondering what was happening to her. Soft tears fell down her face, as she remembered how he had just admitted he cared nothing for her to become beautiful. Then she realized she might not ever be the same after the initiation, which made her even more afraid than the thought of the forbidden forrest and being bullied by the others.

But then she felt, revulsion at the thought that she was acting like Mrytle. She had to allow herself some self-respect. But of course, she loved Tom and she thought maybe when she got him what he ordered she could tell him… She convinced herself that that would be the best time, and she was filled with a true desire to succeed at her part of the deal they had made.


	8. Initiation Ceremony

For the next few days Tom Riddle did not speak to Eileen at all. To her it seemed like he was purposefully ignoring her. But then she thought that could not be true, and that maybe he just wanted to distance himself because the intiation was coming. Eileen did not understand that Tom Riddle felt no attachment to her at all. But because she did love him, she logcially assumed he would eventually as well.

As eleven o'clock drew nearer on Friday night, Eileen was feeling a very strong sense of excitement mixed with nerves. It was very similar to the moment when she had first had a full conversation with Tom Riddle and she had felt a mixture of fear and awe. Eileen had no true understanding of how tonight she was going to meet a whole other side of him.

Tom Riddle emerged from the boys' dormitories and walked very quickly towards Eileen. There were only a few other people in the Slytherin common room, who did not see them in the shadows, as they were busy talking amongst themselves. Eileen smiled at the sight of him, walking so confident and proudly. But her smile faltered when Tom Riddle waved his wand.

She became invisible and felt the strange feeling of seperation and compression like she had the night he got the sample of her blood. Tom repeated the process for himself. and they slipped out of the Slytherin quarters and in ten minutes were out on the grounds.

It was a clear night and all seemed placid. There was no indication that it would snow or rain. Yet it was still January, and the wind was howling. 

The trees of the Forbidden Forrest swayed in the wind as they reached the foot of it. Eileen did not feel brave enough to go in there at all, and only did it out of loyalty to Riddle. Tom Riddle, had absolutely no fear about going in and already had several plans if he came across a dangerous creature. A minute ago, he had pulled the invisibility spell off of her and himself.

For about fifteen minutes, they made their way thorough all the trees. The further they got in, the closer the trees grew to each other and the more brambles there were on the ground.

Eileen was following him, as he walked, erect through the forrest. He was alert, but he still stepped over all the bushes almost airily. Eileen, meanwhile was hunched over, struggling to free herself from the tangled vines, and thorn bushes. Her robes got caught quite a few times. Each time they got caught, Tom would just blast the twigs stuck in Eileen's skirt off with his wand.

Finally, they came to a fairly large clearing of a hill in the forrest. It took them a minute to climb. Eileen was feeling more terrified as they ascended it wondering what was there.

She saw about ten shadowy figures in the distance at the summit. She was eager to finally find out who the followers were.

"Put your hood on. I want to be sure they won't recognize you and don't say anything," he whispered in a screech, sounding harsh.

Eileen did so immediately, and then said "What about the mask, Tom?"

Tom sighed with exasperation then said, "There are no masks. I was just teasing you," he said callously. Eileen frowned, and wondered why he wanted to lie about that.

Then Eileen felt even more fear, wondering what else he had lied to her about, and she realized there must be things Tom was not telling her, maybe even about this ceremony.

What she didn't realize is that Tom was keeping quite a few things from her, as well as planning elaborate stratagems. Her heart filled with horrible suspense at what would commence in about five minutes.

She waited about ten yards away from all the others for about five minutes. Tom had conjured several things in the meantime and the followers were also presenting things. But Eileen could not tell in the dark whom these followers are, so she just stood in her robes and coat, in the crisp wintry weather, occasionally glancing up at the sky.

Finally, Tom said histrionically, "The initiation will begin. The new candidiate for followship in our circle will approach."

Eileen took a deep breath and ran forward. She hesitated, as Tom had conjured a black ring of fire, around the circle of followers, in which he stood in the middle of. She wasn't sure if she could safely pass through it. She waited several seconds to see if he would extinguish it magically. He did not, so she went through, and felt hot for a few seconds, as the ring passed through her middle.

There was some mild clapping, mixed with hisses. Eileen's jaw dropped in shock.

She saw three snakes slythering around the inner-most circle. Then she looked to her side to get a look at the followers and she recognized Mulciber (a sixth year) and Macnair (a fourth year).

But after a few seconds, before she could examine everyone else Tom said, "Pass through the serpents. If you are treacherous they will attack, but if not, it is a sign you are worthy of my trust," he spoke with an ominous chill, probably to entertain the others.

Eileen had already done something like this passing that snake in the library a couple of weeks ago, and was once again filled with the desire for Tom's approval and had no problem picking the right moment to pass through the snakes, rotating in the inner circle.

As she crossed the threshold, she had eyes only for Tom Riddle, and she did not see the cauldron on a stump of wood with blood boiling in it. Before, every member had used the blood-tester briefly to get a few drops of their blood into it, including Riddle under their left-forearm.

Tom Riddle was standing behind her and he pulled her hood down, that was obstructing her face and said, "Welcome our newest member, Eileen Prince."

There was more applause, mixed with hisses and muttering. Eileen distinctly heard several whispers of shock about her being a witch.

Eileen so far was not feeling so afraid, she was used to snakes. He thrust the skull he was holding in his hand, into Eileen's hands from behind her. Tom said, lacking in affect, and unfeelingly, "Pluck the snake from the skull's mouth."

Eileen bravely put her hand inside and pulled with her fingers a baby snake. "Turn around and put it in the cauldron," he said in a whisper, that actually could keep everyone's utmost attention.

She did so, and finally noticed the cauldron propped up. The snake plopped onto the surface of the concoction in it, and immediately started biting it's tail.

Tom meanwhile, had taken out the blood-sample he had gotten from Eileen and he poured the entire contents into the cauldron, a look of glee on his face, that was very disturbing to Eileen.

"The snake biting it's tail symbolizes eternal service to me until her death, as long as I ask for it. Now…" he paused and took the skull from Eileen's hand. He raised it a little and took out a shimmering opal from the socket of the skull's eyes.

"She will see everything from the vantage point of the orders I give." He dropped the opal into the cauldron with his right hand and it burst into powder and then he put the other opal in doing the same thing.

Tom had a satisfied expresion on his face, as some of the followers continued to talk and jeer. Then he put the skull into the potion, and it began to crack and crumble. "The new servant will drink this potion and we shall see the reaction drawn forth."

Eileen did not really want to drink the potion. Her mouth screwed up in disgust and she was beginning to feel nauseous. Tom had his wand withdrawn from his robes and he conjured a silver goblet and dipped it into the potion.

"Take it!," he hissed angrily at her. Shaking Eileen took the goblet and pressed it to her lips and took a small sip.

Tom said implacably, "Hurry up, Prince. I'm not pouring it down for you."

She nodded and took a large swig and it went down her throat. It tasted like flesh and it was very warm and frothy. As it went down, it tingled her spine. Then it hit the wall of her stomach, like a tube and spread all throughout her veins.

Once she downed the whole thing, there immediately came upon her brown eyes a hazyness and her train of thought was no longer clear, as she felt like her memory was fuzzy.

After she drank the second goblet, her thoughts could only dwell on her devotion to Tom Riddle.

By the middle of the third she seemed to be babbling as she spoke, "Tom! Tom Riddle. I prostrate myself before you." She was gasping for air, and it was obvious that she had desire for him. She looked totally enamored.

Avery and Rookwood, were looking at each other confused, as this type of potion normally did not cause these exact effects.

Eileen fell to her knees in front of Tom's black robes as if it was the most wonderful thing. Tom could see that she was becoming completely subdued, willing to submit to him completely, as long as the effect lasted.

"Call me by title….Lord or Master," he said with vile disdain.

"Yes my Lord! Yes Master! You alone are all the power I need," she was speaking, again with rabid eagerness. It seemed she had no control over her emotions.

"Yes, I'm the greatest wizard and the most feared. You shall submit to my orders henceforth, understanding they are absolute," he spoke with calm conviction.

"Yes my Lord," Eileen said with passion and kissed the hem of his robes.

Eileen then burst forward and grabbed Tom hugging him around the waist, from her kneeling position. Riddle took a step away from her, feeling vexed from her affection and pushed her back in the chest.

Realizing she was going too far, Riddle decided to end this power display of how he could so cleverly manipulate this girl. "Who will consent to make the vow with her?," Tom asked the crowd, whom some of them were laughing hysterically at Eileen's rantings for him. None of the others had acted like that, when they were under the potion, yet they weren't in love with him.

A couple of the followers, eagerly signaled that they would like to do the honors. Perhaps so impressed by her loyalty towards him, they felt she would not break it.

Tom did not pick one of the willing ones though. He yelled, "Lestrange! Come here."

Rabastan Lestrange slowly came forward and approached them after passing through the snakes. "I don't want to make an Unbreakable with her. This would be my second," he whined.

Tom argued vehemently, "I am the bonder. You swore loyalty to my countenance. You will therefore make this vow. If you disobey a direct order I issue you'll die from breaking it," he said the last simply.

"Yes Master, I shall make it," Rabastan answered weakly and lowered himself on the ground with Eileen and grasped her right hand. Eileen stared around confused, only concerned about herself in relation to Tom Riddle. Willing to do anything he said, but even more so than she would usually be, because of the potion.

Tom took a step closer and put his wand over their hands. Avery did not start until Riddle prompted, "Well Lestrange? You know the vows to deliver."

He nodded and spoke, "Will you, Eileen Prince remain loyal to Tom Marvolo Riddle and his followers of the future Dark Order as long as they are here at Hogwarts?"

"I will," said Eileen.

A flame materiaized out of the wand and coiled itself around their wrists'.

"And will you perform to your highest potential when performing on orders and services for the future Dark Order under Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"I will," said Eileen.

Another flame coiled around the first, forming a chain.

"Will you never divulge any of the secrets that may be revealed to you within the future dark order under Tom Marvolo Riddle?'

"I will, said Eileen.

Everybody, watched, astounded in the blazing light of the fiery vow forming. Then Tom said, "Rise Prince. Lestrange take your place back in the circle."

Rabastan did as he was told.

Tom flicked his wand and the snakes were gone. Suddenly Eileen felt a definite change in the air, as the potion's effects were coming off of her gradually. It was as if all the followers were waiting for something else to happen.

Then he spoke with energy as he asked almost with a sweet temper, "What to do with this young witch now? You may all make suggestions," he really did not want to do much more with her tonight, but he wanted to see the ideas brewing in his folower's imaginations.

He walked over to Macnair and stood very close to him and Macnair said, "Levitate her overhead!"

Tom just said, "Perhaps another night... Any others?"

"The Cruciatus Curse!" Mulciber suggested ardently. Several others, including Rosier and Wilkes agreed. They seemed terribly excited to see it occur.

Eileen felt sure Tom was going to torture her with the curse, or allow another to.

But instead he said, "How many times must I repeat? I don't administer that curse like it is an entertainment spectacle. The curse is soley used for punishment, as you all know and have received," he said chillingly.

At that thought, they all remained silent as Riddle continued, "We are not doing anything else to her, just yet. I have already given her an order…" he paused laughing wickedly, "We will see if she can follow through with things….this ends the initiation and our meeting."

Although he had refused to use the torture curse on her, and even the levitating that Macnair suggested, it was not because he was showing mercy. But some of the followers, were already suspecting, that Tom had a discrete relationship of romance with her, which is of course not true.

Rather he was biding his time for several reasons. He thought as he disappeared down the hill, "They will all want to hurt her themselves. They will bully her, patronize and damage her first opportunity they get. They will all be in trouble as it will happen without Lord Voldemort's permission. She is mine to toy with and I will be the first to use Unforgiveables on her alone for my pleasure."

Everybody was treking back through the forrest, and the black fire was dispersed. Rookwood in possession of the skull and cauldron he had brought. Some of the wizards were eyeing Eileen hopefully, sizing her up. Eileen could tell some of them had some kind of crush on her. Nervously she sped-up, going down the hill, to walk with Tom, who had been leading the way.

Eileen remained resolutely at Tom's side, who had a lantern conveniently with him. Until they were once again deep in the midst of the Forbidden Forrest. It became so dark she could hardly see.

Her robes got caught on the bushes again. She tried for a few seconds to rip them free herself until she finally yelled, "Please help me!" He was now several feet ahead of her.

Reluctantly, he turned around, without raising his wand and said "Are you a witch or not? Do it yourself!" It felt like he had splashed a wave, of icy cold water in her face, as she was stunned by his coldness of tone.

But he was right in a way. So Eileen took her wand out and performed a spell with the incantation, "diffindo" to split the branches apart. It worked but rather slower than the way Tom had done it before.

She watched as Tom continued walking further away from her, and one of the followers passed her. As soon as she was free, she broke into nearly a run, trying to catch up with Tom.

She failed, and to make matters worse, got the heel of her foot caught in a small hole. She struggled to get out of it as she saw Avery, passing her. "Wait! Could you help me? Please?" She was really hoping against hope.

But to her surprise, he came forward and pulled her by the arm, helping her to break free. Before she could offer a word of thanks, Avery had within a split second gasped and looked around afraid. He then started jogging away, making loud crashing sounds over the foliage of the forrest floor.

She continued, this time going at a very slow pace, groping around in the dark until she remembered her wand again and said the incantation to light it.

In the small of her back, she felt an impatient desire to speed-up. But now she was alone and nobody could help her if she got caught in something again. Or worse, came across real danger.

She continued for less than a minute in the eerie silence of the wind whistling through the trees. She frowned, and clenched her teeth, blaming herself inside her head, How could I have let this happen!

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a light behind her. She thought it must be another of Riddle's followers who was still lagging even more than she was. Then she saw two more lights. She did not want to talk to them, as she didn't trust them but at least she wasn't totally isolated.

Next thing she heard a cry like a werewolf. Eileen was frightened, but only for a second, because she shrewdly realized that they were just being stupid fools. Instead, she smirked at their stupidity, and continued on her way out.

But then she noticed the lights, each with a shadowy figure in it's wake coming closer. She heard the pounding on the ground, of the figures running and then they suddenly stopped. Within seconds, Eileen instinctively knew she was being watched.

The lights continued to twinkle, but she ignored them. They followed her, even when she took a slight detour.

Suddenly out of the corner behind her (probably they had been hiding behind a tree or bush) they emerged all at once from different directions and darted forward. They leapt towards Eileen surrounding her like they had captured her.

Eileen asked in a steely voice, atempting calmness "What do you want with me?"

One of them lunged at her playfully brandishing their wand…Eileen jumped backwards. She regretted it instantly, because it revealed that she was harboring fear. The thought ran through her head on how she wished she was brave like Tom, who knew how to take control of any threat, whether real or empty.

She didn't think they could get any closer but they did. Eileen could now see all three of the boy's faces, illuminated next to their raised wands. Eileen stared at them, as she took in their identitys wondering if they were really that threatening, or maybe they were just playing a childish game?

It was Macnair (only thirteen and shorter than Eileen), Mulciber (seventeen, only a little taller than Eileen but heavy and strong) and Wilkes (sixteen-years-old and a sixth year who was tall with a very thin frame). The looks on their faces, was becoming increasingly, unpleasant to Eileen.

Macnair said in a mocking voice, "Prince! What are you tryin' to be Riddle's pampered princess?"

Eileen scowled sullenly and started to defend herself, when Wilkes cut in and said to Eileen, "Your not interested in power or glory. Your just his mistress. Let's go…she's worth nothing."

Mulciber had grasped his hands forward, as if he couldn't restrain himself from excitement. In his right hand he had his wand aimed at her throat. The other, large hand wrapped itself lightly around the nape of Eileen's neck. Eileen couldn't help but shriek from being put in such a vulnerable position, with little warning.

Mulciber reacted to her shriek, showing all his teeth and knashing them, viciously. "The Avada Kedavra ought to shut you up. Yes and nobody will-"

Eileen pleaded emotionally, "Tom Riddle!" Trying to keep her mind clear she reasoned, "He ordered you not to use Unforgiveables on me. I'm sure you want to be in his favor…Don't you?!"

Mulciber released his grip over Eileen, and then played with her hair, "Yes, but still…"

Wilkes interjected, "We can't do anything with her tonight. Come-"

"I want to levitate her!" Macnair shouted gleefully, and sounding immature.

"Quiet!," Wilkes hissed and then said, "I suppose we could." Wilkes automatically raised his wand, but Eileen was too quick for him. 

"Expelliarmus!" She muttered and he was disarmed. She then turned to disarm Mulciber, but he had already said, "Stupefy!" Eileen saw a jet of red light hit her, and she fell to the ground still alert, but unable to move.

Then the three future Death Eaters working together, raised her high over the ground and spinned and twirled her body. This only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to render Eileen unconscious. Then they let her fall to the ground, hard as they had let go of the charm holding her up. 

Laughing cruelly, Macnair stepped on top of her, as the others proceeded out of the forrest. Wilkes said, "I'm not sure we should have done that. If Riddle finds out... He treats her different, he really likes her!," he complained sounding paranoid. 

Several hours later, Eileen awakened. It was still pitch-black in the forrest. As soon as she awakened she was completely aware of her surroundings. She decided to wait, an hour until a slate-grey color appeared in the sky.

Then she ventured back up, leaving the forrest, feeling worse than she had ever in her life. She was lucky to make it out alive, she thought bitterly as she came out of the forrest, and went across the school grounds, with the sun rising.

She planned on going to bed as soon as she got to her dormitory, as she did not want to deal with her feelings yet. Later she would tell Riddle. She wondered desperately if he could show, even a shred of sympathy.

But what she didn't know is that Avery had seen what had occurred from a distance. He was going to tell Tom what he witnessed before the Hogsmeade trip today.


	9. In the Room of Requirement

Tom was waiting in the Entrance Hall just before noon for somebody before the weekend's Hogsmeade trip. He crossed his arms, and detachedly leaned against a statue as he observed the excited students who were milling about waiting to pass the caretaker with their signed permission forms. 

He could see several of his follower's within the crowd. He spied on them. Listening to all he could make out amongst all the other chatter going on. Riddle could tell that Mulciber and Wilkes, whom were standing together looked to be in high spirits. He knew it had nothing to do with whether or not they had gotten their fun yet with Eileen last night. It would have to be more sordid topics like candy, butterbeer, the joke shop, etc. Then he spotted Macnair with a group of younger boys laughing uproariously about a cruel joke. Riddle could hear it was about a house-elf, a witch, and a giant.

The ancient clock, near the astronomy tower chimed that it was midday. Riddle had ordered him to come here at noon. If he wasn't here within a minute, this individual was going to be very sorry, indeed.

But Avery, sprung up the stone steps leading from the dungeon, and halted right in front of Riddle as he said in a wheezing voice, "I saw everything that happened!"

Riddle felt pleased knowing something had happened despite his orders of not to do anything with her tonight. He grabbed Avery by the scruff of the neck and dragged him down the hall into a broom cupboard. He yanked Avery forward into it, and then Riddle himself stepped, in closing the creaking door behind him.

He surveyed Avery fiercely, who took a fearful step back. Then Tom said to him, "Speak, Avery. Give me your account!"

"Yes…my lord," he said meekly. "The girl, I mean Prince. She got her foot caught in a hole or something….so I helped her out of it. But only because you had ordered me beforehand to see who would go against your orders of not bullying her. I was afraid they would see me, and I would have to then be disobediant to you. So I ran away and watched from a distance. Within minutes, they caught her…and…and"

"Go on. Keep going or else you know I'll-," Tom said raising his wand with ease.

"Yes! They called her names. It had something to do with you," he blurted as it was all he could think of at the moment.

Tom was very intrigued by this and he used all his power of Legilmency to see what it was. "What names?" he said contemptuously.

"Um…I can't recall," Avery could but he was really too afraid, it might offened him as he thought mistakeningly like all the others that Tom felt affection for Eileen. 

"Yes you can. I can see them in your worthless mind", Riddle spoke calmly. "Yes…they said I was his mistress didn't they? And that I wanted to treat her differently. I see…they'll soon discover how Tom Riddle is not treating her softly at all."

Avery continued his tale, "Th-then Mulciber wanted to kill her. There right on the spot. Wilkes said no. But Macnair suggested levitating."

Riddle's eyes flashed and glittered at the same time. He was fighting his anger with his feeling of satisfaction. Tom surmised cooly, "So it was Mulciber, Macnair, and Wilkes? And they left after they used the levitating charm?"

"Yes," Avery murmered lamely.

Tom scrunched his eyebrows in cold fury as he considered what to do. "Go and get me all three of them before they leave. Take them to the Room of Requirement where I will be waiting! Now!"

Avery jumped and bolted out the door. Riddle watched him with a clear, calculating look on his face.

He then took the small and flat onyx stone from his robes that had a protean charm on it to contact all the members to meet at their most common location.

Riddle started treading swiftly up the stairs, planning just what to say to the three who had disobeyed him. But also making sure the entire group would suffer for the actions of the minority.

He passed the statue of Paracelsus, down the seventh floor corridor hardly taking notice of it. A few more moments later, Riddle was stationed across from the painting of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls how to dance where there was a blank stretch of a black stone wall.

Riddle thought standing in front of the empty wall, "I need a place to punish my followers. I need a place to punish my followers."

Then a door materialized and Tom quickly looked around to make sure nobody was around and then went inside.

A wide smile played across his lips. His finely carved features,looked almost crude for hardly any of his teeth showed.

The room, as usual fitted his personality perfectly. It was very impressive and special looking, just as Tom considered himself.  
Nearly full of darkness, lit only by candles. In the center was a couple of rows of uncomfortable chairs, and in front a raised platform.

Tom went across the room, to sit at at a throne-like chair on the platform and waited patiently, taking in what appeared for his delight. He considered devices that looked like they came from a medieval torture chamber to use on the follower's today.

There were also items of dark magic including skulls strewn about. But what impressed Tom most were the silver serpents on the walls, reminding him he was Slytherin's heir. Tom glanced over the collections of old artifacts on display beside the walls. He knew he would not like to use them for horcruxes, because all the powerful artifacts left by founder's would not appear in this room.

The door opened and all of his follower's came in at once, Avery at the back. Tom watched them all for a few seconds, carefully noting Avery's duty to put the silencing and lock charm around the door as he always did at meetings here.

He felt a surge of annoyance toward Rosier and Lestrange who were greedily tampering with the ancient artifacts in the room. The others were talking together or eyeing the torture equipments with fear evident on their faces.

Tom thought with pleasure, "Ah..I have set the right mood. The element of fear always works. Avery won't be tortured, after all he did what I ordered. Just watching will make him comply."

Then Riddle cleared his throat, and spoke, "I have much to say to you all concerning the newest member Eileen Prince."

The several followers rushed to sit down at their usual places in front of Tom as he continued speaking, "Three of you have disobeyed the orders I gave at the ceremony last night. Those three are going to stand up and admit to the rest of your comrades your idiotic blunder."

Wilke's, tall frame was the first to rise slowly, without looking at any of the followers. Mulciber was next as he glared with his large eyes at the others, aggresively daring them to blame him. Almost at the same second Macnair was on his feet, scowling.

"Yes…Avery your memory is not failing you. I can see you reported accurately."

Tom Riddle unexpectedly rose from the throne-like chair and looked down at the three culprits with an expression, that showed he was going to be completely unforgiving.

Tom rounded on Mulciber first, "Mulciber! You were about to use the killing curse last night on Prince, a pure-blood?…Yes I know all about that." It would not have truly bothered Riddle to see a pure-blood killed, as no life really matters to him but his own.

"Yes, my Lord," he announced for everyone to hear.

His eyes narrowed further, "I hear a note of pride. How foolish your hubris is," he spoke with hostility and dislike as he continued, "to waste a pure-blood who may be helpful to my cause?," he added playing up guilt and sounding somewhat sarcastic.

"I'm sorry, Master. Have-"

"That's enough. You shall suffer in a moment," Riddle snapped.

Riddle could of started using the Cruciatus Curse right there, but he wanted them all to wait. He enjoyed feeling the atmosphere of dread that filled the dark chamber, created by his diabolical mind.

"And Wilkes. Being the eldest, couldn't you have exerted leadership? Yet you still agreed to listen to Macnair's suggestion of levitating and carried it out."

Wilkes frowned, biting his lip so hard it was almost bleeding. "I-I could of-"

"Yes done better," he finished for him as he stepped directly in front of Macnair smiling strangely at him. "and our youngest member, Macnair. The one who so childishly demanded the use of the levitating charm," he said derisively.

Then he paused listening to the room, where it was so silent you could hear a pin drop. The followers were all holding their breath, for what they knew would happen next. 

Before Riddle started he said charmingly and with false kindess, "You all need to learn a lesson. Yes…I, Tom Riddle your Master will provide you with any victims you desire." Then his tone became very clear and forceful, "But Eileen Prince is mine. Mine to exert power over. None of you will tell her of the punishment, I am giving out."

After that he waited a few more seconds with his wand raised then bellowed at Mulciber, "CRUCIO!"

He instantly landed on his knees and then writhed on the ground. Voldemort watched, feeling very much justified in his actions. In his mind, he was absolutely entitled to do this, not a thought appearing in his mind to the contrary. He peered at his followers, who also had degrees of pleasure (but considerably lower than Riddle's).

Riddle lifted the curse and looked down at Mulciber with pitiless eyes as he said insultingly, "I see ulterior motives. You're a depraved imbecile, Mulciber for desire to do such promiscuous acts with Eileen. Yet you now, know you know not to act on them unless I decide it."

Then he gave him another brief dose of the Cruciatus curse, and once it was over Mulciber said, "Thank-you my Lord."

Tom Riddle had a hint of the red gleam in his eyes again, as he layed the Cruciatus onto Wilkes and then swiftly placed it on Macnair.

Riddle laughed syncophantically as he said heartlessly, "simultaneous infliction… Promotes camaradie. Or killing two birds with one stone."

Once he relinquished the hold of the curses on Wilkes and Macnair, they continued to pant and hyperventilate for a minute. But Riddle took no notice of them. 

"Now…What shall happen to the rest? Although you did not attack or terrorize. I am sure you all would have gone against my orders, given the chance."

He strode over to where Lestrange was seated and entered his mind through Legilimency. "Yes you…Lestrange! Your dirty imagination is also harboring infatuation. Intimate relationships are not to be formed."

"Yes Master!," he pleaded.

But Voldemort had already lazily ficked his wand and whispered harshly "crucio!"

Once it was over, he was about to torture just one more when, Rookwood bravely asked from the other side of the row, "My lord I understand I should not ask. But I am most curious if you are jealous? Is is possible that you…l-love her?

This distracted Tom Riddle completely from finishing the task of making the whole group suffer. Voldemort drew a sharp wild, breath in as he surveyed the whole, his eyes blazing with intensity, "No. Let me make myself clear. She is not going to be treated differently at all," he said in a colorless voice. He then gave a jaunty grin as he said, "But what a story it is Rabastan of when I first saw her potential."

So Riddle told them the whole story, from his point of view of when he first started talking to Eileen Prince. The group listened enraptured, many of them still believing that he did have an attraction to her, yet of course he did not. Perhaps Tom was secretely feeling desires to control, manipulate and to be intensely possessive of her, but that was all. There was certainly no love in the air.

Over the next week, Tom heard about the second attack of a mudblood by the basilisk. It had been covered up, as Dumbledore and Dippit did not think it wise to tell the whole school what was going on and luckily nobody had seen the petrified muggle-borns.

Inivisible, Tom listened at the foot of the gargoyles, guarding the staffroom to the professors discussing it.

"That poor boy and girl," Professor Merrythought said with sad desperation. "Is there anything we can do?"

"The Herbology professor is making the mandrake restorative draught," Flitwick answered in a squeaky voice.

"Yes, but who is attacking our students?", Professor Merrythought asked, glancing at Dumbledore.

"I wish I had proof, Galatea. I believe, even if Headmaster Dippit doesn't that the legend of the chamber is true. I'm almost sure it is the heir of Slytherin, unleashing it's weapon to purge the school," said Dumbledore pausing between sentences as he marshaled his thoughts.

Galetea Merrythought made a loud whimpering cry and said, "Already a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff! It must be-"

"We cannot accuse…there is no evidence to who is behind the attacks," Dumbledore said commandingly.

Tom stepped away from where he was eavesdropping. He was smiling that awful smile and there was a manic glint in his eyes, as his heart filled with pride because he was the Heir of Slytherin. He longed to tell them all, that it was him behind the attacks. He wished he could get recognition, but he knew he would have to wait. "One day the history of Howarts will be re-written. With I, Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort having a prominent place as the heir to the greatest of the four founders," he thought as he swiftly went back to the safety of his common room.

Eileen recounted to Riddle what happened to her after the Initiation ceremony during breakfast earlier, before the evening he had listened before the Staffroom. Eileen thought it safer to do in public to avoid Tom's unpredictable temper and intimidation.

She squeezed in beside him on the benches and said gently, "Tom I have to tell you something important." As soon as she said this, Avery and Wilkes looked up at her with curiosity from several feet down the table. "It's a question about the Prefect duties," she added rather loudly. Thankfully, the two followers looked away after that and went on with the last minute writing of their potions essays for Slughorn.

"Actually it's not really about that... Do you know what happened to me that night in the Forbidden forrest? I woke up hours later after being lev-"

"Eileen," Riddle interrupted impatiently. "I heard all about it.'

"How?," said Eileen completely dumbstruck, her expression confused.

"I have spies within my group, that I pick to watch particular members," he spat at her, after pausing to take a drink of milk and a bite of toast.

Eileen just nodded, her expression wilting into disappointment, as there was no sympathy from him. She was not really surprised, as she was starting to notice that there were things Riddle was not going to tell her. If only she knew the ones that might effect her negatively. 

A moment later Riddle spoke: "Next Monday, meet me in front of the statue of the one-eyed witch to show me what you have... You are working on the deal I ordered you to fulfill?," he questioned her with a note of warning.

"I've been able to get some stuff. But the money is harder to come by."

Riddle smiled half-way and said, "I want the money more than other silly things you might offer. IF you don't GET the galleons for me," he spoke forcefully.

Eileen grabbed Riddle's hand resting on the table and said zealously, "I promise, Tom. I'll have it. Don't you realize, how...I'll do anything for you?!"

Riddle tensed from Eileen having the gall to touch him, with a disgusted look on his face. Then his expression changed into a smile, lighting his eyes, "I know you would Eileen."


	10. A Diabolical Dilemma

A week later, Eileen was walking down the lonely side-way corridor near the third floor, the floor that the statue of the one-eyed witch is located. The wind rattled and whistled down the corridor from the windows that were open where a burly young boy was standing in front of them, enjoying the feel of the cold air, yet there was no sunshine as it was the evening. He couldn't go out becuase the Headmaster temporarily was allowing nobody to leave the castle. The school had finally been addressed about the attacks. Dippit and the others wanted to make sure nobody was smuggling any items of dark magic in. Dumbledore knew that this could not be the case, and had told Armando, who still did not listen, as he took the legend of the chamber with a grain of salt. Yet Dippit knew deep down, it must be the Heir of Slytherin and his chamber, but if it was that he knew he could do nothing to stop them or find it, so he did not want to tell others the truth. Therefore, most the school had not found out about the Chamber of Secrets being re-opened was true…but that would soon change with the Ministry's involvement and getting the Daily Prophet, who would believe Dumbledore's account of events at Hogwarts over Dippit's.

Once she got down the third floor, she saw Riddle near the end of it. She walked as fast as she could carrying a large package. Moments, later she fixed her hair as she presented herself in front of Riddle eyed the package she had almost greedily, but then his expression became sour. He swiftly muttered "diffindo" and the statue opened up. "You first, Eileen," he said politely.

She took a breath and then went down, surprised by the chute of several yards that led her to what lied beneath. As she surveyed the atmosphere she jumped when she saw it was pitch-black within this secret passage, she had never been in. She wondered if it was a cave? Or a cavern? Whatever it was, Eileen shuddered at the thought of being alone down here with Tom.

She turned around suddenly to hear Tom clinkling down. He lowered himself methodically. Climbing like it was a ladder. Once down, he whirled around with his wand lit and raised.

Stepping over to Eileen, he said, "Were going a bit further in. But don't be nervous, Eileen. We can enjoy ourselves being alone," he said with mirthful sarcasm.  
They walked for a few minutes, and then suddenly Riddle guided her sideways near the walls.

"Sometimes I come here when not in the library at night to do things and also…I'll admit to you, hide things," he stated lightly.

"What do you do?" Eileen asked tentatively.

"Perhaps brew a potion, I was intrigued by or…conduct business," he said smiling to reveal all his white teeth, which Eileen could not make out, between her own and Riddle's lighted wand.

His demeanor seemed to have changed. "So…unwrap the package you brought," he suddenly stated, blandly.

Eileen quickly did so, untieing the string and setting it on the floor. Riddle knelt down with Eileen and eyed the assortment of objects. He picked up a plate and looked at in the light.

"That has been in my family for five generations and it does have an immense supply of magical powers in it," Eileen nervously rushed, afraid he would get angry she was trying to keep talking, and maybe he would not frighten her like he usually did.

"Really?" Riddle said with some doubt, looking into both of Eileen's eyes. "Well see." He tried a few simple spells in which only one of them worked. Then did "specialis revelio" non-verbally.

Riddle put his hand over the heirloom, as his expression turned to mild disgust, pursing his lips. "There is no more than a few magical traces. Either this is a very old magical artifact, or you're lieing. I tend to believe the former," he said, his voice gradually going into a deep whisper.

Eileen trembled and opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Riddle continued with the next two. He roughly withdrew a metal carving of an elephant that was a few inches tall.

Riddle quickly performed the same magical tests, Eileen squeezing her hands in anticipation of how he would react next. But in reality, Riddle was not react. So far, he was not really surprised. He expected at least some failure for many reasons, some still not obvious.

Once finished, he suddenly threw the elephant across the cave-like passage, so that it landed silently in the heaps of dirt, far off in the distance.

"Tom," she moaned. "My grandfather made that."

"Look for it later," he said antipathetically. "You'll have a job of finding it though," he said carelessly.

Eileen bit her lip and pondered how anyone could be so lacking in understanding or even just the simplest consideration that it was hers?

Finally after viewing the last object (a small picture) "A negligent amount again," Riddle said, tossing it on the ground and standing up, which Eileen followed suit.

"Come on. What else, Eileen? Money at least right?"

Eileen nodded fervently and quickly took out of her inner-pocket of her robes a small sac.

Riddle eyed it greedily and then snatched it, holding it. Then taking a few out to make sure the galleons were real.

"How much?," he pressed her.

"One hundered and fifty. All galleons. I got it at Gringott's," she said not sounding so nervous, almost proud.

"So you are able to evade even the Goblin's discovering your real motives for going to Gingott's," he said with maybe a little approval.

"Yes, I knew I had to act-," she spoke as Riddle threw the money with a jingle in his pocket.

"Alright, quiet. I'm about to tell you something, Eileen and it just might shock you in surprise," he added dramatically and continued, "to be so…naïve to not even realize."

"Realize what, Tom?"

"What I've been doing. Even now you don't notice?," he stated in a deep and harsh, ambiguous tone.

Riddle stopped for a few seconds, then began to speak almost like he was just thinking aloud, "I knew I saw a potential in you that night just before Christmas. I knew I could easily get what I needed to see you do, and I was right. But now, don't you see Eileen?," he stopped, with a penetrating gaze as he smiled at her, thinking of the simple beauty of his plan.

Eileen shook her head and exasperated Riddle erupted, "It's a ruse! A clever ruse." He laughed gleefully for a couple of seconds.

Eileen eyes lit-up in surprise and her eyebrows went up.

Riddle glared at her, annoyed at what he believed foolish lack of judgment, "I thought you had brains to see, that if I really wanted your silly family heirlooms and wealth that I would have done more? At least monitored, even have you make a vow."

"What?" Eileen gasped, and her mind worked quickly, reflecting backwards all the way to when she had first talked to him in the Slytherin common room.

Riddle looked deep into the brown sparks of Eileen's pupils in her eyes, as he saw what she was thinking. "Yes Eileen. This was all a test I conducted. Remember Christmas night after the dinner with old Slughorn? Well, I made to get you away from the sordid socializing. So I meneurvered us, to go out on the grounds Eileen to break the so-called deal I made with you. Then later, I enticed you, feeding your appetite of ideals of romance?"

"Oh!," Eileen breathed, "When you kissed me? But Tom, I know it was real. I could feel it."

Riddle smiled, looking even more cunning as he said with a demon-like glint in his eye, "Well, believe that then. " I told you of the plan, the little gimmick I created. Of course, it was inspired by your little monlogue to Slughorn."

Eileen jaw dropped, as her stomach felt like it did as well. Tom was always listening…  
"I continued forward with this simple ploy," he stated with smooth deliberation. "I reminded you often to get me what I ordered, don't you recall? It kept you on edge," he said as he smirked from the humor he found in it.

"It did!" said Eileen rather indignantly.

"Now we shall move forward Eileen with the real matters at hand. Which is to say, I've seen worse attempts, but also better. And you did not satisfy the order, if it was real. But now will learn he said," he said raising his wand, slowly, "you'll know better next time, won't you Eileen?" he said with artificial glibness.

Eileen felt sick, with fear and dread as she thought that it was really a trap, a dilemma and that he was probably going to use the cruciatus curse. She suddenly thought, even if I had not gotten anything, she would be in the same situation. Almost no matter how well she complied with his orders, she would be in the same boat. She realized how unfair it was, even if it wasn't a genuine concern of Riddle's. Tom Riddle was a diabolical mastermind, a brillaint strategist, and this was only a sample of his plotting.

But she still felt passion for him, and desired desperately some relief, yet of course she felt hurt and upset. She decided to show that first, "But th-then, you were lieing and I was did nothing against you, Tom! This is irrational," she bravely added.

Riddle sneered and said, "This was completely controlled. I knew with exactitiude, pressing all the right buttons. I'm quite an actor," he simpered egotistically.

"You…You. I believed you. You were so sincere," Eileen stammered.

Riddle laughed, at her delusions of his character. If there was anything he was not, it was sincere. 

"And when you said my family has money and power. You seemed to really want what I could offer!," she tried to convince herself and Riddle.

"Yes, plundering after your silly heirlooms and tiny flows of money, is exactly what I must rely on," he said with complete sarcasm. "You are not significant to me, Eileen! Like I, a future Dark Lord would hold you, a mere follower who has proven nothing to high-esteem," he continued, brutally demeaning her, "Trite and insignificant is all you are…presently."

"But isn't our relationship, have even more to it than that! Aren't I SPECIAL to you?," she screamed almost the top of her voice.

"No…," he said calmly. Then he said to comfort her, "Perhaps once you've proven a little and your given the Elixir I will," he said and he winked at her. "Then you may even have another reward," he said charmingly.

Eileen sighed, still feeling very tense and becoming emotionally drained from this shocking truth of her relationship.

"But for the time being," he said becoming irked by her boldness. You do not yell when addressing me…and you are to address me as 'master' or 'My Lord' when alone with me."

He waited for her to answer, "Yes, my lord."

Riddle was breathing hard as he raised his arm and spoke, "Ready for your first experience with the Cruciatus curse?"

"No!," she said her knees shaking, feeling terror.

Riddle swiftly smashed the plate on the ground with his wand and as he did so Eileen tried to treat, falling back on the ground.

Riddle came forward slowly and lowered himself over Eileen with menace. "master forgive me! I did not do anything!"

Riddle bellowed, "CRUCIO!" at her heart and she was writhing in excruiting pain.

Tom Riddle, consumed in his empty anger, that was like a bottomless pit. He stopped the cruciatus, as Eileen was reaching a form of breaking point.

"A little pause…Ah…yes. I have fantasized as I waited Eileen," he said, breathing from some kind of stimulation he was getting.

He then leaned over her, almost on top as he looked deeply into her face. He did not admit, that the real reason for his ruse against her was so that he would corner her and she would have to accept this.

Once again, he placed the curse onto her, aiming near her bosom.

When it was over, Riddle said soothingly, "But I'm not being unscrupulous Eileen. I'm entitled to it. Now…are you learning to be obedient?"

Eileen did not answer immediately because she believed she had alreeady shown plenty of it and then said gulping, "Yes…My lord."

Tom took Eileen's hand and pulled her up off the ground, "Were done. Now let's go."

After a few minutes of walking back, Riddle stopped suddenly and put his arm around Eileen, for a fake gesture of affection he wanted to show as he did not want her to break away, or else she may break her vow, and he did not get enough of her yet, to see this follower of his die.

"I always keep my promises," he said shining his wand in her eyes like a doctor's instrument, and he saw the sparks in her eyes, were no longer lit with that light she had always had.

"So I'm still getting…my reward," she said, feeling relief for him to finally show a gentleness again.

"Yes…I will get Rookwood to brew the Elixir of Youth for you, now."

"Okay, Tom" and he allowed her to say it, just because he knew there was only so much somebody as knew as her could bare. Eileen's heart burst from the wounds she felt deep in her spirit, she was almost sobbing.

They continued walking, Tom actually held her hand. He felt no affection, but he liked that he had control over this girl.

As they neared the chute to climb back up it's steep embankment Riddle said, "Never forget. I could do even worse things to you than even the cruciatus."

Eileen did not answer, as she really wanted to avoid all those thoughts, especially now that she felt a little better.  
As they quickly climbed out of the statue of the one-eyed witch Eileen appeared, disheveled and dirty, from the trip. Riddle, meanwhile only had a light sprinkling of dirt over his robes, more pronounced on the hem.

Riddle continued with her, no longer holding her hand, as they were walked along the corridors a moment later, with only a few minutes until they were supposed to be out of the halls to observe curfew. Eileen got another glimpse at the burly, large boy with shaggy hair.

"Do you know who he is Eileen?," asked Tom, dislike etched in his voice.

"No.." she answered.

"It's this stupid, half-breed oaf, Rubeus Hagrid he calls himself."

"Oh…he's not in Slytherin right?" she said hopefully.

"No, he's a Gryffindor, and a big blundering fool as most everyone knows."

Eileen did not question it, but rather trusted Riddle's words.

Once they got in the common room, they departed each other for the night. Eileen thought thankfully that Tom does not know her worst fears, as she thought they would certainly be worse than the cruciatus curse.


	11. An Ensnaring Incentive

Towards the end of the week, Slughorn sent out invitations to all the members of the Slug Club, including Tom Riddle and Eileen Prince, as well as many of the followers who happened to be in the Slug Club. All in all, there was about a dozen young witches and wizards who showed up, which comprised most of the Slug Club.

For the small sociable, as it was not quite a party, Slughorn had managed collecting through the Slug club members, their famous familiy and some of them came. But when Riddle arrived, alone but confident, he could care less to talk with the recluse, named Gabathun Hornby (related to Oliver Hornby), who created magical techniques for house-keeping. Riddle wasn't remotely interested in this cousin of Oliver's or for that matter, the current Captain of the Irish International Quidditch Team.

"Everybody enjoy yourselves," Slughorn announced in a booming voice. "We usually have bigger parties here," he said more to the two famous guests and Gabathun looked like he was quickly turning bored.

Tom Riddle, was also in a torpid mood in a sense. There was an agenda he wanted to accomplish tonight and for now he would have to wait. So, he quickly joined the crowd pretending to listen to the Irish Quidditch team captain, Patrick Connelly regale the group of a so-called "heroic tale" of his last match against Romania.

Tom remained quiet as most of the other people broke off into groups to socialize. He was very used to having people come to him by now and knew within moments there would be a group of his chums accompanying him.

As if magnetically attracted, Avery came forward holding a butterbeer and clapping Hornby around the shoulders. "Hey, Riddle Did you know about Hornby's cousin? He tried to sell his magical cleaning supplies to muggles! Ha! Ha!

Riddle shook his head, as he undetectably to others clenched his teeth, not caring for this lame joke. Avery had some nerve to approach him so casually and to think he cared about the topic of cleaning supplies. Where was his respect?, Riddle seethed to himself.

Avery seemed to be slowly picking up on Riddle's coldness. Oliver just smiled sheepishly at Tom, looking nervous, and then he left. Perhaps he was perceptive enough to see that Tom wanted him to disappear.

"My apologies, Riddle," Avery spoke with an odd reverence for such a casual party. Tom continued to appraise him coldly. Reading into Avery's inner-thoughts, he commented "It is strange that Eileen Prince isn't here."

Riddle started to wonder where she could be and came up with a very likely possibility. Before Riddle had seen into Avery's mind, Eileen had not been on his mind, unless you counted the fact that he was going to corner Rookwood later about the Elixir of Youth for her to take.

Tom then flitted over to where Rookwood was with Lestrange, who were having a conversation, unnoticed by the other surrounding people. Although Slughorn may have intended this Slug Club meeting to be a small, intimate gathering among friends, Riddle did not treat it as such. Instead, he spent the next fifteen minutes cornering some of his followers, dropping hints about how he expected them to act both in the club and outside it.

"Discussing Eileen Prince?" he asked with a cool harshness.

"Yes…we were," said Rabastan languidly, averting his eyes.

Riddle almost guffawed at their stupidity in thinking of him as and her as romantic partners. They had better stop thinking that there is more to the relationship than servant and master, he thought. Riddle was not going to make a remark, when it burst out in spite of himself his true feelings towards Eileen, "She's a very boring, shy little…brat." He paused and said charmingly, "But she simply adores me."

"Most girls fancy you," said Rookwood flatly, and with definitive ease.

Tom unflattered, sighed exasperatedly and frowned slightly. After taking a drink of butterbeer Rookwood said, "But you always manage to scare them away the short time your with…w-" Rookwood caught his breath, realized he may be going too far.

Riddle just inwardly cursed Rookwood for his insatiable curiosity about himself. Really, it was none of his business.

Dictating the terms of the conversation Riddle changed the subject, speaking in a whisper, "Remember I told you I wanted an Elixir of Youth to be brewed, Rookwood? I want you to start it now."

Rookwood looked again, even more curious clearly thinking about how it must be for Eileen, but not daring to continue talking about someone his gang leader did not want to speak of to him. His mind back on the Elixir he gaped, "But-But it will-"

"Yes, take a few weeks, I know," said Tom impatiently. "Come to the library after and I'll…tell you how to go about it," he finished as he glanced at the only two young witches of the party who were watching Tom, suppressing their giggles.

"Okay boys," said Slughorn and he added to the two, "and girls." Slughorn had arranged the chairs in a half-circle, and the remaining half a dozen individuals sat down in front of Slughorn reclined in his velvet pouffe and arm-chair.

"Tom," said Slughorn casually pointing to the chair in the center. Riddle, used to this by now, was already swaggering over to it.

The girls nearby jumped and then pranced to the front as everyone else went to sit down. Silently racing, unnoticed by all but Tom Riddle who was the only who was aware of their competing for him. Riddle just ignored the girls with complete indifference. The girl who was behind at the last second discretely pushed and elbowed her friend and sat down in a huff next to Tom.

In another short moment, Slughorn sat down, disappointment etched in the lines of his face. His party had not gone as wonderfully and entertainingly as he had hoped, especially since the two prominent guests wanted to leave early.

"Well now, Tom. Thanks for sending me, three bottles of the finest elf-made wine. I must wonder how you can afford to spend on an old man like me," he said as he poured himself a drink and then Tom a drink, but nobody else. Riddle of course, had gotten the wine from a follower who went into Hogsmeade, using the money he took from Eileen.

There was nervous titters of laughter throughout the room. The two girls did not laugh, but stared at Tom as if hypnotized by his handsome carved features. Riddle just nodded and did not answer this question of the money, as he saw no purpose.

Of course, Tom Riddle was what some might call the apple of Professor Slughorn's eyes, as he continued like he ususually said, "Yes, you'll go far, Tom." Re-focusing briefly on the other Slug clubbers, Slughorn noticed the girl on Riddle's right, subconsciously picking up on her obvious desire for him he said, "Blood like yours, you could marry into the most prestigious wizarding family of your choice."

Suppressing his aversion towards marriage, Riddle took a sip of the wine and then said with calm lightness, "I'm afraid I'm not the marrying type, professor."

The girls were now blushing. Riddle did not even look at them, yet he knew that they must be doing that. He was not in the mood to play one of his manipulative "games" with them. As to, Tom Riddle relationships with girls he fancied him, was really just a game.

After an awkward silence, the girl across the circle from Tom, who did not get to sit next to him said, "What do you think of the attacks, sir? Is it definitely the heir of Slytherin and his monster?"

Slughorn, eyed everyone, as his expression wilted into a touch of sadness.

Riddle swallowed hard, turning slightly paler. He managed to completely control his wish that people could know it was him. Yet the desire to be held accountable was unbearable, as Riddle was so fiercely proud.

If only he could relieve himself from it. A tinny, bit of him wanted to be apprehended for the crimes, to get some satisfaction. But reason told him that in the far future, gone from Hogwarts it would be known.

"We must go by what Dumbledore says, in my opinion." Slughorn spoke thoughtfully. "He believes the legend of the chamber to be true. The monster of Slytherin is making itself known, as for the heir of Slytherin…I have no idea."

Riddle almost could not bare the suspsense and the storm going on inside every of him. Meanwhile, some of the followers, who long ago had suspected and been told about by their gang leader's about his famous ancestor, determindly suppressed this. Avery faked a coughing fit, from nerves.

Then Slughorn clapped his hands, and yawning, as he wanted to pretend to be fatigued, "Good night! I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. I know I did."

Slowly the group left the room, Tom reluctantly left last. He was feeling irritated at all this romantic attention he seemed to be receiving. His thoughts concerned the affects of the Elixir. If even, the slightest error the results could be devastating. But that was more than okay, with Tom. It could be highly amusing to watch Eileen deteriorate, he considered.

Rookwood was hunched over, waiting at the entrance of the library, Riddle inconspicously signaled him to come with him and they went to the back of the library where he had met Eileen a few weeks ago.

In the corner of the last shelf, Tom swiped a book out that he himself was very familiar with, as he had considered several years ago starting with the Elixir of Life, which took years to make and would require his own laboratory. But now of course, he knew horcruxes were a much better commodity for himself to be immortal.

"Here," Tom said thrusting it in Rookwoods hands. "Read the instructions several times …then it must be done with total precision," said Riddle with rakish toughness. 

"Yes…of course," Rookwood whispered, as he started to leaf through it and found the Elixir of Youth.

Rookwood, tried to hide his reluctance towards brewing this extremely dangerous liquid, that even had the power to transform into a black stone to keep it on hand more conveinently.

"Gosh…seventy disparate elements. I'll have to work whenever I can," said Rookwood, trying to hide his feelings to complain, that he must be assigned this most arduous task.

"Yes, you better. The work station will be safest under the statue on the third floor. It can be made within a few weeks Rookwood and that is when…it shall be done," Riddle said speaking with quick-witted acuity.

"Yes, I'll have it...but why make her such a special potion?" he questioned inquisitively.

Riddle said scornfully, "The elixir is for Eileen to to have genuine allegiance."

There was of course, more to Tom's thinking on it than making Eileen loyal, but he did not wish to delve into it with another of his minions. Riddle's mentality was that Augustus's sole duty was to undergo the process of creating it and not to ask questions.

Tom looked Augustus in the eyes, lingering with a serious expression. He saw in Rookwood's mind that he was wondering why Riddle cared to make this potion for Eileen, if he didn't have something important between them.

"I see... those thoughts Augustus…I don't have ties with her in that ridiculous sense," Riddle said, as he inwardly shook off his anger at being reminded how people thought he was doting over Eileen because there was love there.

With indifference Tom shrugged and said, "The affects are dangerous if you make a slight error and if she ever withdraws from it…oh well….guess she'll have to depend on us," he added smiling as he spoke quickly.

Rookwood laughed, deluded in the belief that he shared a two-way friendship with Tom Riddle.

Feeling more comfortable, Augustus confessed his complaints, "I will have to make this once a month. Once she takes this, she can't stop and I'll be-"

Lightning quick on the uptake, Riddle's expression changed into a hint of anger, "Is this a poor excuse to stop complying with my-"

No, my lord!," Augustus answered with terror. "Just why do it when it's not to serve you?"

"I told you it's for allegiance to me. Initially, Side-affects are similar to felix felicis. She'll be elated and more than willing towards me," said Tom, as he laughed lightly.

"But…" Rookwood began again, as he dropped his voice conspiratorally. "But what happens the day that she isn't given it?"

Tom Riddle smiled gloatingly, tracing his fingers over his lips and said, "Put it this way…her life will be under great peril from the withdrawal…"

Tom, hearing somebody walk by, saw Eileen carrying a stack of books. Riddle immediately started to head in her direction, and Rookwood decided it would be wise to leave Riddle to speak with Eileen Prince alone.

Undected by Eileen, Tom watched her in the shadows as she marched back over to the desk she was working at. She seemed feverishly interested in something. Her deep brown eyes kept skimming rapidly over the books spread out.

Riddle snaked up right behind her chair without making a sound and surveyed what she was doing.

After a moment Tom said pleasantly, "Ah…glad to see your keeping up on my family history."

Eileen's head snapped up in surprise, with that mixture of fear and awe evident on her plain features.

Eileen had just spent her whole entire evening of lesiure time searching for anything about the Riddle family, until she realized that not a single one of them must have been magic. She did not mind missing the Slug Club party, if only she could learn more about the boy she adored.

She then went plowing through old wizarding records to search for hints about Tom's maternal side. Eileen did not mind at all. She loved to read and had a small library of classics and encyclopedias at Stonewall Estate, as well as being an avid researcher.

Tom Riddle swooped down beside her.

"You won't discover my famous ancestor …I've kept the evidence …I may not have much to say on my worthless father or my weakling of a mother, but yes, there is power in my past."

As Tom, spoke over this it was bordering on an obsessive rant. Tom was gaining satisfaction from what he was to reveal to Eileen within the deserted corner of the library tonight. If he couldn't get satisfaction, from telling everyone he was the heir who had opened the Chamber of Secrets he could at least reveal to his newest member the dark glamour of his family's notorius past. He knew his followers, including Eileen would never be tell anyone he could be the heir of Slytherin, nor would there be any evidence while Tom was at Hogwarts.

Riddle plundered ruthlessly on with his monologue, "The blood that runs through my veins is none other than the greatest of the four Hogwarts founders….," Tom paused for dramatic effect. "I'm the last living descendent of the noble, Salazar Slytherin. Slytherin prided himself on pure-bloods of course, seeking the most cunning wizards. Tom Riddle, that is to say I will prove Slytherin's case over mudbloods and the other filth. I-"

"Amazing! You're the last descendent. Who-," Eileen said, speaking fast.

Riddle's dark blue-grey eyes slanted. He said with frustration, "Stop interrupting and listen!"

Eileen knew it was unnatural anger. Like a switch had been turned on and then abruptly off.

He went back to his monologue, composing his passion over what he had unearthed just several months ago about his parentage, "I found through the geneology records that it was the Gaunts, was my mother's maiden name. I have yet to meet them, but plan on learning why she died. I'm going to the Gaunt's to commit to something," he added evasively.

Eileen was staring dreamily at Tom Riddle. Suddenly he averted his eyes and looked away from her, his mind somewhere else. He was thinking of his plans to do that special, first murder to make his first horcrux after the school-year ended.

Eileen, meanwhile was so focused on Tom, when he could care less for her involvement with him in the grand scheme of things.

Her curiosity peaking, she was going to ask Tom what this thing was that he wanted to commit with his family was. Her mind being so innocent in comparison to Riddle's, she imagined Tom would perhaps feel better, and be healed from what she thought was his regret over being an orphan, after seeing his relatives for the first time in his life. But she knew it would be futile to ask what it was, having learned of his penchant for secrets.

"May I ask about the Elixir you said Rookwood would brew for me?," Eileen said politely.

Riddle looked at her slowly, and said in an empty voice, "Yes, it shall be ready in three weeks. You'll take about an ounce daily."

His demeanor flickered into eagerness and charm, "It's very rare for potions to work on such a meager consumption. But it is wonderfully powerful, Eileen. I'm sure you'll feel fulfilled once you have your heart's desire."

Eileen sighed. This potion was very unknown to her, and naturally she feared meddling with something she was ignorant about.

"Are you sure it's safe? It sounds quite the contrary from being wonderful, it seems terribly powerful to me" Eileen replied candidly.

"I don't see how it can be terrible when the only side-effect in the beginning is elation," said Riddle pretending to sound unnerved by Eileen's belief that it could be terrible. "Your very fortunate, Eileen to know me and your getting something that I know you want."

"Well that is true, your right," said Eileen softly, smiling.

A moment later, her smile faltered. "What about when the elixir runs out?"

Riddle laughed and said with an inscrutable expression, hiding what he knew about of it's affects, "You'll never be without it once Rookwood masters alchemical transformation to make it into the stone. Then…Eileen. Then, you can drink of it forever."

Riddle was being completely unrealistic and superficial here. He knew it was unlikely Rookwood would ever create the Elixir of Youth into the perfect form, of the black stone. But he knew it was the best reasoning he could use to pursuade Eileen.

"Oh alright," she said and Riddle noted the tension falling off of her thin silhouette at her shoulders.

Riddle smiled, wide his eyes lit with energy. "Good night, Eileen." He rose and left her there alone.

She slowly started re-shelving the books she had taken out, thinking of all he had told her. She was mixed with fear and anticipation.

Although the library was closing in five minutes, she rushed over to where she knew that book was that contained the instructions and information on the Elixir of Youth. 

She felt a desperate sense of dread and fear, when she realized the book had been taken out. Logically, she reasoned it must have been Augustus Rookwood.

But then, Eileen's fear was almost swallowed whole by her desire to see Tom, and for him to see her become beautiful under the Elixir. She was living in anticipation of the day he would perhaps see her as beautful, and she could then, measure up to him in terms of looks. Maybe, then he'll become closer to me she reasoned.


	12. Accosting and Acquittal

On a Saturday morning in the first week of February, Tom Riddle and Eileen Prince had prefect duties that involved mainly patrolling the castle. It had always worked that Eileen had one area and Tom the other. It was a habit of them to split up on duty like before, when they had not gotten to know each other well before now. Tom of course, enjoyed operating his duties alone.

He was patrolling the halls of the dungeons that led to the Slytherin common room, when he took a usual short-cut of his to get to the west end of the castle. Riddle made his way, striding with purpose through a hollowed door-way that led down a staircase to the lower dungeons. The one most students were too terrified to venture in, especially as Apollyon Pringle (the sadistic caretaker) liked to use them.

Tom stopped on the first landing and entered the dark abyss, that was completely empty. His footsteps echoed over the stone flagged floor, his lit wand shimmering over it. It was so silent and dark, most people would have felt tense, but Tom pereferred silence and darkness.

After a minute, he had almost reached the other end of the castle and the stair-case leading up to the light when he distinctly heard a door swing shut, and a voice. Riddle's eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as he listened in to discover whom the voice belonged to, as he groped around with his only light of his wand to find the door.

"Sorry…but I gotta take care of yer down here. Don't want nobody seeing you…Ara," the voice was husky and gentle at the same time.

Just then, Riddle's hand closed around the handle, and he pushed it open, eager to accost the person he knew it was. Entering the tiny room, as small as a dank cupboard he shouted, "Rubeus!"

It was indeed Rubeus Hagrid. The boy Eileen had seen and been told by Tom to be the big blundering fool of Gryffindor. Rubeus's beetle black eyes seemed to flash with defiance as he asked, "What do you want with me now, Tom?"

Not moving any closer to Hagrid, Riddle crossed his arms lazily, and raised his chin up. Hagrid was a few inches taller than him, but that was certainly not going to stop him from exerting his power and control.

Speaking as if talking to someone slow Riddle said, "I've seen you with that acromantula before," and he pointed a long finger to indicate it, lying in the box. "And you couldn't know I was present," he said pausing in his explanation. "So as a prefect I believe that you have broken far too many school-rules, Rubeus. The point is, your in trouble all the time and it's time it was reported."

"But she's not dangerous! Aragog's-" argued Hagrid with vehemenence.

Riddle drew in his breath and said ina sultry, dull tone, "Regardless it still goes against the rules set down by Hogwarts,"

"What rule?" Hagrid challenged him.

"For one thing…students are allowed to bring a cat owl or toad. Nothing about a spider, you stupid oaf," Riddle snapped, his face contorted with revulsion as he continued to look at Hagrid.

Riddle made a few steps closer to Hagrid. Instinctively, Hagrid knew that Riddle was aiming to snatch the box with Aragog in it. Howling, Hagrid dropped his beloved spider out of it's box and onto the floor, and it scuttled away.

Riddle felt a surge of rage, as he was going to use the spider as proof. Before he could try an incantation to bring it back, Rubeus upset, channeled that into anger and lunged at Riddle, flailing his arms. They were both knocked on the hard floor, Hagrid on top of Riddle.

Rubeus threw a couple of hard punches at Riddle's stomach, thinking it would knock him off balance and he could seize his wand. Riddle did not seem to register the pain, but continued to fight to get his control back. It was almost like he was immune to pain, as he didn't even wince. Hagrid tried to grasp Riddle's wand, but failed as Riddle yelled, "Incarcerous!"

Hagrid was now bound in ropes and Tom got to his feet, looking furious, but struggling to reach his normal level of control.

"Enough of this, Rubeus!," said Riddle who was truly frustrated. "Stop struggling and obey me, and I'll release you. As a prefect it is my job to apprehend you. Were going to Professor Dippit… but first-," he said with a mix of arrogance and a note of warning.

He raised his wand, and eyed Hagrid as if summing up his possibilities. Then a gleam of inspiration, that made him look ugly hit Riddle, and in a flash he used a spell that caused a wide gash on Hagrid's left cheekbone. Not explaining his reasoning Riddle, knelt down as a smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"One more time can't hurt your dismal disciplinary record, can it Rubeus? But maybe, you'll be expelled," Riddle said softly.

Hagrid was breathing hard, and he looked like he was becoming increasingly emotional, ready to lash out again.

Releasing Hagrid, who jumped up immediately, Riddle pushed him forward, and then poked his wand in his back, as they left the room., "It is only a responsbility of mine report this aberrent behavior. We can't have students like you, with dangerous secrets and illegal creatures. You should be ashamed of yourself, Rubeus." Riddle was primarily saying this to make Hagrid feel guilty and to set him up properly to weaken him before they got to the Headmaster's study.

In a few minutes they were nearing the corridor that led to the stone gargoyle's of the entrance to Dippit's quarters.

Riddle continued to berate Hagrid, trying to frighten him even more as he said in a whisper, "Nervous, Rubeus? Scared? I know the worst, imbeciles and miscreants like you, are punished by Apollyon Pringle. Do you know how?" Riddle laughed a dry chuckle at the thought of it.

As they were turning the corridor, Eileen Prince appeared to be patrolling her area of the castle. At the sight of Tom with that boy she had been told about, she hurried forward, clearly curious. Coming closer, she noticed Riddle leading Hagrid forward with his wand, and she tensed. To Eileen, it looked like this boy, was in some sort of serious trouble.

About to ask a question, Eileen opened her mouth but Riddle spoke before she could start, "Lucky I found him. He's raising dark, lethal creatures in the lower dungeons, Eileen. I'm taking him to the Headmaster. You just…," he muttered and then pausing as he was considering using Eileen as a further back-up. "Go and forget about. I'll take care of it."

Eileen did not look like she wanted to agree. But before Riddle could see this, he was already passing her as they walked down the corridor. Eileen stood there, contemplating how she should react. She decided that it was probably standard procedure to get the student in trouble their head of house. So she hurried back down the corridor in the other direction, towards Dumbledore's office.

Professor Dippit was pulling on his traveling cloak rushing to leave for an appointment with the minister of magic about the attacks, when there was a loud knock on the door. "Enter," the old wizard said.

"Riddle…I'm sorry I have somewhere I have to be." Dippit did not even seem to acknowledge that Hagrid was there. Hagrid was standing right next to Riddle though, his hands as large as saucers, balled into fists.

Riddle looked straight into the headmaster's beady black eyes and he saw that it had to do with the Chamber of Secrets being opened, as this was on Dippit's mind

"I have urgent news, sir…"

"Oh!" said Dippit becoming intrigued.

Riddle swallowed hard, his courage mounting and had the gall to burst out, "It might very well concern the prepetrator of these….heinous attacks."

Dippit's eyes became wide and he finally spotted Hagrid. "Do you mean you saw something from this boy you brought with you?"

"That's right, sir. He's using illict creatures as an accessory to his crimes to do his bidding," Riddle spoke with a savage fervor, as if repulsed.

Riddle stopped to wait for the Headmaster's reply, to this most unsettlings news, but none came. Instead Hagrid let out a roar of frustration and then said, "I never hurt any student! Aragogs done nothin' neither!"

Dippit's voice became uncharacteristically sharp, "Who's Aragog? And what is your name, year, and house?"

Hagrid's face fell, as he realized he should not have blurted out Aragog's name. He looked down at the tiles of the floor and said in an almost defeated voice, "…Rubeus Hagrid. Gryffindor, third year. Ar-Aragog is my pet spider…and I don't let him near anyone but me!"

"So you admit to owning creatures that aren't deemed appropriate for a Hogwarts student," Dippit spoke sternly. "Continue with your explanation, Mr. Riddle," sounding much milder towards him than Hagrid.

"To be precise, it's an acromantula Professor Dippit," Riddle said dramatically and at these words, Dippit suddenly looked like he would explode, his face turning red.

"He's only a baby acromantula!...Professor," Hagrid said in a whimpering tone.

But Dippit semed to not care and was quickly coming to the certainty of Hagrid being guilty. "You shall have your chance to defend yourself, so quiet" he admonished to Hagrid.

"I saw it when patrolling on prefect duties and there he was, hiding the acromantula in the dungeons. I've been watching Rubeus for a while and I've heard plans to have more than an acromantula, sir."

"What plans exactly?" Dippit asked in a squeaky voice.

Riddle knew that Hagrid's dearest ambition was to raise his own dragon so he said looking straight at Hagrid, "He's been doing his best to get his hands on dragon eggs. Rubeus knows all about where to find them. I've even heard him brag that he occasionally goes into the Forbidden Forrest and collects numerous other creatures."

This was only partly true, but it did not matter to Dippit who was taking the story as being totally factual. It was because Riddle spoke with just the right pursuasion needed to convince the Headmaster.

Hagrid was becoming more and more nervous. He was restraining his vocal cords as hard as he could not to yell again.  
Dippit had turned his head and was now eyeing, Hagrid with great suspicion. Taking in the full details of his appearance, Dippit said, "Where did that cut originate from, boy?"

Hagrid slumped his shoulders, thinking of what Riddle had done to him. Tom spoke first with cool confidence, "I think we can conclude it was one of the dangerous beasts he trains, Headmaster."

Tom was going to use that cut, as he had planned from the moment he had done it, as a method of evidence that Hagrid had dangerous magical animals in his possession.

Dippit nodded, his wrinkles crinkling in apprehension. "I want to see everything you've got on you! Turn out your pockets," Dippit demanded.

Hagrid hesitated, and then delved into his pockets of his crinkled, over-sized school-robes. He pulled out a number of miscellaneous objects, including a handful of seeds, a photograph of his deceased mother, Fridwulfa, and another of him with his tiny father.

Dippit walked over to the little table, Hagrid was throwing them on angrily. The Headmaster walked over to examine the objects, his hands behind his back. After a few seconds, he picked up a small knife.

"Why do you keep a knife, Rubeus?"

Hagrid managed to come up with a good answer, "For cutting up potion ingredients, sir." Although that was actually a lie.

"I suppose that is a natural reason," Dippit said and he sighed, feeling a bit more relaxed.

Riddle immediately intervened, "Headmaster, I'm sure you're going to investigate Hagrid, more fully though? Perhaps his-"

Hagrid suddenly jerked his fist down on the table, knocking many of his own belongings off the table, and they rolled onto the floor, his strength increasing his voice roared like a lion, "I may have broken a few rules, Tom, but my heart in the right place! Unlike you hating anyone whose blood is less than pure. You-you," Hagrid started to stammer.

"I will not have you insult Riddle in my presence. He is quite possibly the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever had," Dippit said.

Tom thought how the contrast between them worked so perfectly to his advantage, as he gave a wry smile. Then he spoke, "As you can see, he has a terrible, uncontrolled temper. I don't see how it can be tolerated much longer."

"Yes, I agree. I will be keeping a watch on Rubeus for now on, like you had so wisely done."

Hagrid who was still feeling anger and needed to express it physically, but could not was now on the floor picking up the mess.

"He's too attached to creatures. I suppose it is a sickness or something," Riddle said logically in an even voice. He was trying to use phrases to make out Hagrid to be a bad seed.

Hagrid now looked like he was shaking with rage, he had just opened his mouth to argue again, when the door of the study opened and Dumbledore was in the room with Eileen Prince right behind him.

"Dumbledore!," said Hagrid triumphantly.

Hagrid was looking at him with shining eyes.

Riddle and Dippit turned on the spot to face Dumbledore, who came poking through the room wearing a pointed wizard's hat, which made Dumbledore appear even taller. Eileen, who was of normal stature for a girl of sixteen followed, although she seemed shorter behind him.

"Eileen Prince, a prefect came to my office saying that Hagrid was harboring dangerous creatures in the dungeons. I rest assured that Hagrid has not been found guilty, am I correct?"

"We cannot prove, but I think Hagrid may have a hand in the culprit of the attacks. Riddle came to me with an account of Rubeus harboring creatures. Also, Rubeus Hagrid admitted to me here that he owns an acromantula," Dippit said, speaking in an objective tone he had not used before Dumbledore arrived. "I've also heard from Riddle that Hagrid ventures into the Forbidden Forrest on occasion," Dippit added in a dispassionate voice.

"Although Ms. Prince is sure that Hagrid is guilty, where is the evidence that the accounts of Hagrid being responsible for the chamber are the truth?" Dumbledore asked giving a significant look towards Riddle.

"Hagrid has a most peculiar wound on his cheek and I doubt it's something-"

"That may be evidence, but it is only circumstantial, Armando," Dumbledore said calmly.

Used to getting advice by Dumbledore, Dippit was not angry of the assessment of his surmise of the events. So Dippit sighed and said, "I still would like you, Professor Dumbledore to have a search of his dormitory and to place sanctions on Hagrid's activities. He is no longer to be permitted in Hogsmeade or to go outside the castle at all."

"I will make sure to handle it," Dumbledore said calmly. After a moment Dumbledore asked, "I suppose that is all there is to say concerning this?"

"Yes…Mr. Riddle, the girl, and Mr. Hagrid may leave," Dippit ended on a cold note, actually scowling at Hagrid who made the most noise leaving.

Dumbledore remained because the Headmaster wanted to talk privately with some advice about all the fishy activity going on and to hear Dumbledore say again that the Chamber of Secrets really must be opened.


	13. Exploiting Passions

Eileen had been given a small black onyx stone that would burn as a signal for when a meeting of the "Dark Order" was. It worked because it had a Protean charm. She could hardly wait for the first one, as she considered her initiation ceremony to not have been a real meeting to her. After all, she was not allowed to partcipate in the proceedings before the ritual to have her inducted. But now, she would get her chance.

She had also been informed that the next meeting would take place at a secret passageway on the fourth floor. She did not know, but Riddle liked to change the location of the meetings and the times, so that it would be harder for anyone to discover it. Even if they did, it was not illegal to hold a student organization at Hogwarts, and they would not be detected in open wrongdoing as some of the followers served as lookouts for every meeting.

A few days after Eileen's birthday (which was February ninth, by the way) she felt a jolt of happiness when the little stone started burning. It was a Wednesday evening just after eight o'clock. She could hardly wait to get to talk to Tom Riddle. He had almost completely ignored her ever since the incident with Rubeus Hagrid. Eileen never found out if he was angry that she had got Professor Dumbledore or not.

She left her dormitory and crept out of the tunnel. Once outside the common room, she made sure to act nonchalant as she went up to the fourth floor, despite the fact that her heart was bursting with excitement.

Alongside the wall was a large mirror that Eileen observed from a distance people were muttering an incantation and disappearing behind it.

There were a few other boys who were standing like sentinels at locations all along the corridor, to report any warnings of outsiders.

Once she was standing in front of the mirror, a guard (who turned out to be Rosier) whispered harshly, "A Disillusionment charm gets you behind the barrier." 

Eileen did some quick thinking and recalled the charm, that she had only just learned to do this year. She whispered the incantation, tapping her wand against the mirror and then she slipped forward.

Once inside, she saw that there was a labyrinth of empty passageways bathed in a misty blue light. She could not figure out it's source. The scores of passageways seemed all to lead to one destination in one direction, as the detours were only short hallways.

Within a few minutes, she unexpectedly came in front of a very large room where all the followers were congregated, with Riddle in front of the semi-circle of them.

Eileen, feeling dreadfully shy stepped within the circle as subtily as she could. But it did not matter, Riddle easily noticed her as he was in front of them all, but at least nobody else seemed to care. Eileen was relieved to see several seconds later a few more followers arrived. At least she was not late.

Evidently, Riddle had just paused in his speech for the followers present were applauding him with a racket that was certainly not polite to outsiders.

Although Tom Riddle had told only two that he was the Heir of Slytherin and had of course, admitted to none that he opened the Chamber of Secrets he said, "All I ask is to continue targeting imbeciles like Rubeus Hagrid. In apprehending that great oaf, it was easy to convince Dippit. Why? Because he too holds our beliefs against giants and half-breeds. So I worked the values to my advantage."

More applause ensued. It seemed like everyone was treating Riddle like a hero. "Now…for the attacks that have happened at Hogwarts…" Riddle said loudly, and Eileen could of sworn she saw him wink at her.

Instantly, there was a hush over the semi-circle as some suspected that Tom may be involved in the attacks. But of course, the followers attitude was approving, to a level that made them ardent supporters. Tom, meanwhile was feeling a wonderful sense of release. If he couldn't admit to it, he could at least speak safely of it, devoid of risk amongst the future Death Eaters.

"You are all to feel glad…satisfcation, " he said fiercly, beginning to instill fear. "The school is being purged of the filthiest blood. Of course, our adversaries, our enemies. Many of them reside in Gryffindor, living under the fool, Albus Dumbledore and they may single you out," it was not true that Riddle considered Dumbledore a fool.

"Besides myself, as there is little chance I'll be accused of the attacks being what is it? The Golden boy of Hogwarts," Riddle laughed delightedly and smirked at the same time. Then he became serious once more, "If ever…I hear your accused…be confident that I, the master of this organization will seek you protection. I'll arrange a set-up to make sure your cleared of being accused of the source of the attacks on mudbloods. Of course…you'll loyalty will never waver and you will repay when the time comes. For I assure that when I am known as the Dark Lord over the entire wizarding world… we shall coerce, torture, kill the filth to the highest degree!" Riddle had just spoken like it was a political speech and he was certainly rallying his convention.

There were shouts and screams in response. Tom had manipulated their pure-blood supremicist mentality to fit his own agenda for himself.

"But I am going further with both experimentation and our target of victims. You…Lestrange are partially responsible for…discretely getting my influence into the Ministry of Magic, and even the international Wizengamot."

Lestrange bowed and spoke in a humble voice, "Yes, My Lord. Only to serve you," he added, afraid Riddle might suddenly accuse him of something like a libelous sedition against Riddle.

"Prove to me tonight that you can operate the so-called Unforgiveables…or surprise me. Show me something else practical of the Dark Arts. You have a half-hour. All of you know the drill. Start." Riddle's role of activator changed. It was now like his authority was a teacher or as Riddle liked to think training his future army, that would deliberate one day under stealth.

People dispersed across the large room, that was ideal for making space to practice magic in. Eileen looked around frantically, scanning every face. Finally, she decided the one member she was least afraid of because he helped her that night after her initiation. It was Avery. She only hoped she had not under-estimated him.

"Partner up with me, Avery," she said in an unusually bold voice.

He made no objections, but took his wand out and looked around the room. "Sometimes snakes are used…but Riddle wants us to go against each other," he stated in a dry, ambiguous tone.

It was true. Everyone seemed to be dueling each other, each trying to overpower their partner.

Eileen with her wand out, and raised said, "It's like we're dueling, right?"

"Yes!," he yelled impatiently. Riddle was quickly making his way around, giving each pair specialized attention and Avery did not want to get caught doing nothing.

Facing each other, Avery and Prince turned abruptly on the spot and walked away, taking the rule of three steps. They spun around and Eileen could not believe her luck.

Avery and Eileen each spent several seconds desperately trying to work either the Imperius or Cruciatus on each other. Thinking of the way Riddle loved to control her, she channeled it into herself pretending she was as powerful as Tom. Saying "Imperio!" for the fifth time, it finally worked.

It was obvious from the look on Avery's face. He now looked blank as a souless, empty shell. Eileen knew Riddle would be at her group, (if he wasn't watching from a distance already) and she had to tell him to do something deviant.

"Fall on your knees," she first tried, as a simple test to be sure he was under it. Then she said in a loud whisper, "Stop breathing!"

Astounded, Eileen watched as Avery's face became red from the shock his body was undergoing.

She raised her wand to lift the spell and realized she did not know how to lift the spell off. She yelled "Imperio," but it did not work. She then finally realized what simple spell it was to detach the incantation of the curse.

Eileen herself had almost stopped breathing. She could not believe how she had almost been responsible for someone dieing. From the shock, she was caught off guard. Seconds later, Avery retaliated.

She did not know what he had hit her with. Avery had muttered, "Sanguia." Eileen felt like she was being sucked down into a black hole and she was becoming subdued. She could feel her organs and blood mesh together, and she was on the ground seeing stars. She felt like she had lost all her wits. It was just her blood and guts.

Riddle had finally strolled over to them. She vaguely heard Riddle say as if his voice was an echo " Magic used to manipulate corpses to do one's bidding, Avery. I would have never guessed it to be knowledge that you could possess."

Avery smiled, his eyes dazzled with light. Although an underhanded compliment, to Avery it was a complete compliment. "Thank-you Master," he said.

Riddle then briefly looked up at the whole group, taking in everyone. For it was like he was omniscient or everywhere at once as he watched his followers. He had heard, Eileen moments before desperately trying to take the Imperius curse off him. Riddle had not cared to intervene.

Avery, his brown curly bangs, covering his eyes looked down at Eileen and then decided it was time to take the curse off her and lifted it.

It took Eileen several seconds to come back totally. She was very dizzy. Riddle picked her up (not roughly) by the fore-arm, and she swayed. Eileen interpreted it as affection or pity, but it really was not.

"Apparently your not as strong as I hoped, Eileen," he said sarcastically, but Eileen did not realize that. He looked down at her with disdain, "You don't do much on the Dark Arts? Resigned to just reading about it, are you?"

He was belittling her and he knew just what to say to incense her.

"No!…My Lord, please. I did the Imperius and…Avery couldn't resist it," she said in a small, constrained tone, terrified she would insult him.

"Let the experts, like me handle it. The only who would protect you, Eileen is me. Make sure to remember that," he lied about wanting to protect her, making her feel guilty and he was almost mocking the idea of protecting her as he finished his encounter with them, "You must make progress."

After a few more minutes of practice, in which Eileen did not do as badly as Riddle had purposefully made her feel she did, the meeting was over. Riddle reminded the group at the end that they finish with a mundane spell with their wand. The reason was, that if an outsider like an authority confiscated their wand, they would not see dark magic as the last spell performed.

Eileen thinking she was free to leave felt like she was returning to Hogwarts. For that hour, it had been as if she had been transported outside the school because the Headmaster and professors were not whom she answered to. Tom Riddle was the boss and absolute authority during meetings. She was also reminded of what Tom had first told her about magic in the library just before Christmas. She recalled a quote from the book she been tested on, "Infamous for their ability to torture the body, possess the mind and sap the spirit of it's powers." She was still fascinated by the Dark Arts and vowed within herself to impress Tom next time.

She was at the back of the crowd of over a dozen individuals (still all boys except herself) when Riddle who was lingering with Rookwood off to the side said, "Stay behind, Eileen."

Stopping in her steps, her heart also seemed to stop from trepedition. And then her head began to swim with all the worst-case scenarios her imagination could come up with. Yet she had no idea what Tom Riddle's rage could be like. Perhaps one day she will see it.  
Rookwood was standing beside Riddle. Rookwood looked mutinous, his sallow face clearly showing it. "Shall I present it, My Lord?" he asked plaintively.

"Yes, show her what you've been creating for her for the last three weeks," Riddle responded cooly, toying his wand with his fingers delicately.

Rookwood withdrew a corked flask from his robes in one sweeping second.

Eileen smiled, her eyes sparkling with happiness because Tom had finally kept a promise. He had not lied. Little did she know, that the potion she was about to be given was something with a dark side to it and Tom Riddle knew all about it's dark side. It was lethal, but not dark magic.

Riddle darted forward and took the flask from Augustus most possessively.

Then he turned to Eileen, looking at it her calculatingly.

Eileen nervously grimaced at him, and then inched closer to Tom, eyeing the potion.

Tom flicked his wrist with the arm holding his wand. A ruby-red goblet was conjured, floating. Tom pocketed his wand, then opened the flask. Once the potion was opened, all three of them heard a crinkling sound. It seemed like the potion emanated power.

He then grasped the goblet and poured a small amount of the contents of the flask in. Now the ruby-red goblet was gleaming from the iridescenent light of the potion. Eileen looked into the goblet and remarked, "It's a beautiful potion, Tom," and she looked him in the eyes.

Riddle answered calmly after a second, "A beautiful potion, for a beautiful girl."

The potion really was beautiful. It was white, with tiny sparks of the rainbow of every possible color. It seemed to have a light of it's own. But in reality it was a decieving appearance.

"Will she hurry up and drink it?," Rookwood said, directing all his rudeness towards Eileen not Riddle.

Eileen immediately reacted, and took the goblet from Riddle and pressed it to her lips. Opening her lips to sip, she suddenly stopped and lowered the goblet away from her, like it was revolting.

"I spent three weeks. Three weeks of constant toiling making that," Rookwood said bitterly. "And now she won't have it!"

Tom glared at him, quickly loosing his wish for his follower to be present. "Leave us, Rookwood!"

Rookwood stayed rooted to the spot and Riddle spoke again, "I'll remind her just how lucky she is once more and then she will consume."

Rookwood raced away still in a flurry of resentment at being confined to this task. With the knowledge he would have to brew it again in at least five weeks time before the drinker runs out.

The room was once again silent. Eileen broke it and said, "I c-can't take that. I don't trust it," Eileen felt her brown eyes fill with tears. Why was she putting herself through all this misery?, she thought.

"Why ever not, Eileen?" Tom questioned in an innocent tone, as if truly concerned at her apprehensions.

"Because I'm afraid it will hurt me," she mumbled. Her hands holding the goblet started to shake, as she was losing control.

Tom took the goblet from her gently. He looked her straight in the eyes with a determined expression. There was no way he was going to permit her to post-pone taking the Elixir of Youth.

"Sit down, Eileen. Make yourself comfortable."

Eileen sat. Her back against the wall.

Tom knelt beside her, as if proposing marriage.

"Tom your being …understanding. I'm so glad….," she said in a wavery voice.

He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, "Your confused, Eileen. Afterall, your senses have been meddled with tonight. Don't you recall being under the Imperius curse?"

"Of course, but…this potion scares me."

Riddle laughed. "It scares you?! How could it? Does this look, like dark magic to you? An answer, if you please. Does this look like dark magic?"

"No, not at all."

"Exactly. Because it isn't. You have been reading too much on that subject. It has influenced you and confused your perceptions of magic. Remember, I said the Elixirs result is that you'll get your deepest desire," he rationalized with her.

"Oh, right. You've been telling me that all along." She now felt so stupid. He was giving her such excellent reasons. 

"Only because it's the wonderful truth. Think of it as a belated birthday gift from your master. Drink it and you'll feel like a goddess and henceforth, you'll be mine," he finished his dark blue-grey eyes glittering with a seductive hunger.

Eileen smiled, her mouth wide open, "And I'll want you even more?"

Riddle frowned, somewhat surprised she had stated that. He changed his appearance to looking pensive. "I suppose that could occur, Eileen….Just drink it up," he added.

He pressed the goblet to her lips holding it for her. She drank the ounce, in one desperate gulp.

The confuion she had been feeling a moment before was disappearing. Replacing it was an acute awareness evident by her eyes, drinking in her surroundings and resting on Riddle. Her cheeks seemed to flush, and she began to breath like she was panting. She began to rock back and forth, as it was a way to let off the torrent of mania she was feeling in her heart.

"In a few days you'll look different, better," spoke Riddle. Eileen certainly heard his words, but it was the sight of him that was electrifying her with a passion she could not understand. "But I must say your not acting like yourself," he added lightly, mocking the state she was in.

"Tom. Your…the object of my affection! I never told you, but can now. I feel Great! Like never in my life. This is heaven!-" she was talking excessively. "Your eyes are so nice. You're the brightest student and I-I"

"Stop it, Eileen!," he snapped. "Quiet," he added in his most dangerous voice.

He did not like how strongly she was reacting to the effects, which was similar to an extreme overdose of Felix Felicis for the first several minutes, until it settles in the stomach. He could not stand hearing such illogical bantering, even if it was now extremely obvious that the girl worshipped him.

"But Tom! I LOVE YOU!…I love you, sweetheart," she said manically.

"What?"

"I love you always and forever will and I'll do anything you say…" She had a boundless enthusiasm and Eileen's voice seemed to ring with emotion.

Riddle grinded his teeth, suddenly electrified with his own passion. He rasied his wand and slashed at the air, so that Eileen felt a stinging sensation, as if he had slapped her.

"Wake-Up! Stop this nonsense!"

Eileen cried and laughed at the same time and continued to talk with a zealous passion for him. Riddle decided he was not going to endure these initial affects that similar to Felix any longer.

He used "Petrificus totalus" nonverbally as a restraint to stop her from moving and talking. Eileen's slim frame fell as stiff as a board on her back against the hard floor.

Riddle then waited several minutes, until he knew he could be sure the affects would have run their course. He paced around, fuming. He could not believe he had not seen this coming. The girl believed she was in love with him! It was disgusting, he thought.

A draft was in the room, as Eileen lay there frozen and cold. Her emotions welled up inside her and she was still distinctly aware of them. But being under the spell Tom had put in that restrained her, she felt pain. Pain because she could not express her passion for him. She came to terms with it though, and accepted it. She kind of liked him controlling her anyway.

Riddle finally lifted the spell off of her. Eileen rose slowly, still actutely aware, but no longer the way she had been ten minutes ago. He remained quiet, keenly observing her.

"I'm so sorry, I acted like that Tom. I beg your forgiveness. But I do love you so!," she pleaded.

He did not speak immediately. But continued to stare at her. Slowly Riddle's eyes scanned up from the floor until he looked her square in the eyes, as a method of intimidation. Eileen shuddered as she felt the atmosphere in the room change. She had a sinking feeling inside her that Tom was most displeased with her confession of her love for him.

"I'm flattered," he said with heavy sarcasm. "Your delusion of grandeur. LOVE," he spat the word love with hatred. "Do you want to know what's real, Eileen?," he burst out aggressively.

She nodded and whispered, "You don't have to admit you love me too, Tom. I've already known."

"You think so?," he said doubtfully. "I'll tell you something. I confide only to the most devoted. I'll even tell a gullible, lustful brat like you, because you're here to serve me."

"Tell me what? Is this one of your secrets?," she said hoping to learn more of him.

"It's my best kept secret…you tell a soul and you'll wish you've never existed," he paused wanting to instill in her that this threat was absolutely viable.

"Let me show you, whom your dealing with. My true identity isn't the name Tom Riddle." He was beginning to speak like he had done other times, as if entranced and enlightened.

"That means nothing but the name of a common muggle who left my mother before I was born. Was I to keep that wretched name? No. Not as the heir of the greatest ancient wizard, Salazar Slytherin. Not I, who whose future marks the most powerful sorcerer of all time!"

Eileen's eyes glazed with insipiration. She agreed whole-heartedly.

Pulling his wand back out, he began to trace it through the air, forming three shimmering words.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, so that the letters scrambled into:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

The words burned and blazed with an intensity for a full ten seconds, as Eileen absorbed the image of them tranfixed. She felt terror and fascination simulatanelously.

Once they burned away, Riddle stepped right in front of her. He looked uncharacteristically ugly, even to Eileen. There was a red gleam evident in his eyes. She felt frightened.

"I want you to use this title when addressing me privately. Can you do me that, at least? Despite the fact that your a follower whose done nothing for your master, LORD VOLDEMORT!"

"Yes…Oh, please. Don't do anything! I'm still afraid you'll kill me!"

"I tell you this… most beautiful revelation and your worried about yourself? You coward! I expected more from you, Eileen…Say it. I'll allow you to say it passionately. Yet, it's not for you to feel that ridiculous delusion, it is about power!…Speak my true title."

"I-I. It's not about love. If that's what you mean by delusion. I fear your true name," she whimpered.

Riddle laughed high and cold. A laugh that did not conicide with his attractive appearance.

Still Eileen felt magnetically drawn to the power and his grip over her emotions.

"Excellent," he spoke with satisfaction. "That's the point, isn't it? One day, the world will know the name, Lord Voldemort. They shall fear it too. Perhaps they'll substitute with you-know-who…or he-who-must-not-be-named," he thought, smiling awfully. "But you-" he said fiercely. "will call me Lord Voldemort always when alone. We're alone now and I say to start proclaiming it unless you wish for some punishment?"

"No….okay. Lord Voldemort, have mercy on me."

"Thank-you," he said, of course devoid of true gratitude. "You dared ask for mercy? Lord Voldemort is never merciful, Eileen. You'll have to pay for that moronic misconception. Bow down to me."

Eileen did so, guility. Eileen shuddered and was shaking, hyper-ventilating. She loved this man and she could seek no love in return. But even if he did not love her, she could not burn out the fire inside her even as the cruciatus curse raked her core again, into her very bones.

Once it was over, in which he only used the curse once, Voldemort reminded her, "Expressing gratitude is always done by followers after."

"Thank-you, Master….I mean Lord Voldemort!"

"Good…," said Riddle who so proudly holds his mask-like title.

His features seemed to lift and become more normal again as he said, "Get up and get to bed, Eileen. I don't need to hear the elixir made you ill when there is so much you can do for your master in the near future."

Eileen was too shocked by the night's events to answer him.

Later she layed in bed, with the strange elixir coursing through her blood-stream changing her appearance. She would still be the same physically, just more attractive once it was set. She reflected on how this had been one of the most memorable times ever with him. Indelible images formed of Tom, Tom Riddle…or Lord Voldemort. His handsome features she loved, turning into the red gleam and no longer handsome Tom Riddle. She still loved him and had hope. She had to try. She was not giving up on him. As she went to bed she dreamed of him, the name "Lord Voldemort" running through her mind like a mysterious song.


	14. Career Advice

In the first week of March, the fifth years of Tom Riddle and Eileen's class were sifting through a barrage of leaf-lets concerning their future careers in the Great Hall.

Eileen was sitting further away from Riddle then usual, pouring over them and looking most ill-tempered. She could not figure out why she was feeling so moody lately. Her appearance had changed. She had color in her cheeks, thicker shinier hair, a better nose and face was even developing as the Elixir continued it's affects, almost stabilized. She was certainly still recognizable though to all who knew her before. The followers and her friends simply thought that she was in love. True, but love could never be normal or smooth when it was with a young man like Tom Riddle.

Tom was scanning his pile of career guides and quickly tossing them back on the table looking like he could not agree with any of the opportunities. Finally, he turned to look on at the others surrounding him, as everyone began to eat the food that had just appeared.

He listened intently narrowing his eyes and sometimes smirking at the girls across from them who did not notice Riddle. They were boasting about their plans. It all seemed so stupid from his perspective. Why would anyone want to spend their life as a healer, or a teacher, or anything? They knew nothing of real power, he thought. And he had the fleeting thought that the Hogwarts curriculum was more suited towards his own tastes and aspirations. In the field of dark magic. Tom suddenly thought as if being idealistic, "maybe there is a resoon to be attracted to teaching. If I became Headmaster...," he thought and continued to contemplate.

Eileen seemed to be thinking along those lines as well. She was not finding the enthusiasm she expected she was going to when she wanted to do something that involved potions, probably working in an apothecary.

Tom's sharp blue eyes were suddenly on her, and Eileen who was always hoping they were, felt joy. She was debating in her head if it would be better if she somehow, secretly lived a life devoted to the dark arts because they were so fascinating to her.

Tom raised an eyebrow and said, "I see we're of the same frame of mind," he was commenting on what he had just seen in Eileen's mind. That she too, was aspiring towards what fruits dark magic could bring.

Mrytle was skulking around, coming up from the third-year section of the Slytherin table. She had a big frown on her face, as she glumly poked her way through the pamphlets now strewn all over the table.

She spoke loudly, but a quivering voice after reading one of them for several seconds, "I so wish that I could be an Auror. It would be fun to go into danger and I'd be in the news. But where would I find time? I could be in muggle relations. Do you-Do you think I could?"

The girls had finally realized Mrytle was talking to them, they just scrunched their noses at her and shrugged. "Did you hear me?!," she sqwaked, suddenly becoming mad.

"What?," said one of them in a foggy tone, as they had already dismissed Mrytle's words.

The other girl said smartly, "Aren't you that…- I mean, a third-year. Stop worrying….you still have a couple of years!"

"Yeah, she could. If she ever gets there," Tom said to himself, as he had been listening as he ate breakfast. He did not mean anything deeper by it, it was supposed to be a private joke.

Mrytle looked around with her wiry spectacles. She was always so paranoid of others talking about her. Spotting Riddle, she glided to him, "Oh…You!" she shrilled. She gulped and started talking. Myrtle always felt braver when there were others around, she felt safe enough to rant at even Tom.

"I know what your thinking!", she suddenly blurted out.

"Fine, Mrytle. Go ahead…and take a stab at it," Riddle responded calmy, leaning back in to get a full look at her, sitting in a relaxed posture. He was quite acclimated with manipulating Mrytle's feelings, and reasoning.

"Your thinking…um," Myrytle said, delving into her convoluted imagination. " thinking that, I'll never amount to anything. That I'm a poor baby, who could never be a magical researcher or-"

"Not even close…" Riddle interrupted arrogantly, still holding an oddly pleased expression with dealing with her. "I'm wondering," he lied sweetly, "why a little muggle-born girl would be worth talking to."

Mrytle gasped in horror. "That is the meanest thing anyone said ever to me." And stamping her foot, she ran away.

In a few minutes, she was back bringing a few other girls from other houses behind her. One of them a respected sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect.

Tom did not see this, as he was getting up to leave, just about finished with breakfast.

"I don't believe it. Poor Mrytle. And I can't imagine Tom Riddle telling her she has no future."

The other girl intervened, "He must of. Look how upset she is…crying. But we didn't see it, we can't do anything, like take points."

"There…Mrytle. It's okay, the third girl in the group said, patting her arm.

Mrytle leaned against the girl, as if she was protecting her. She was acting like a small child.

The sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect said nicely, "Repeat what happened, explaining it in front of him," she said suddenly smiling at Riddle, but stopping herself.

"He-He, said that I'm the worst Slytherin and that he can have any job he wants and I can't have anything. He made me feel-, she hiccuped and then started to sob.

"Come on, Mrytle," the girl prompted. 

Tom, meanwhile was just looking with a mixture of his feigning of innocent slight confusion and interest, which someimes morphed into a poker-face, hiding what he was thinking. Eileen was observing the situation and was preparing herself in her mind to defend the man she was so devoted to.

"HORRIBLE!", Mrytle burst out the most dramatically she could muster. "It's awful to be a young third-year and have the best student in the school embarrass so others think I'm-"

"That's enough now Mrytle. I see. Well, what are you to s-," she rounded on her fellow prefect.

"First of all, I'm sorry this girl, whom I hardly know,... took our brief exchange the wrong way. Perhaps I could have been more cognizant that she's sensitive. Then again, I truly apologize for this. It was not my intention," Riddle sounded sympathetic, actually kind, but of course not the reality.

The Hufflepuff looked in Tom's eyes, concentrating as she knew a bit of Legilimency. She could see it truly was not his intention, to bother her that day. But she could not breach the surface of his true falseness though.

"My goodness….Riddle is speaking the truth…just be make sure to treat Mrytle with extra care for now on," she finished sweetly and actually gave him a glowing smile before turning away with her friends in her wake.

A moment later, Riddle was swiftly walking down to his first class of the day glad to be away from the crowds with the drama-queen nearly succeeding in getting him in a little trouble. He had not wanted the scene that just occurred to become a spectacle. Therefore, he had lied about that attention-seeking, pathetic creature, to use Riddle's description of Mrytle in his thoughts. Crimes of passion were not Riddle's preference of motivation to seek out his victims, but targets certainly were. Mrytle happened to be just the person most needed to be disposed of, in Riddle's view. She was not important in the faintest trace, but she was, in order to keep Riddle's best advantage for himself the best muggle-born the school and himself needed to weed out.

Eileen, was feeling much better all of a sudden, looking forward to her career advice that was to be in just two days. It was like she was under an emotional roller-coaster in her life with Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort taking over so gradually, of which she was oblivious to.

Waving a piece of parchment, she flew down the corridor before History of Magic after Riddle.

Eileen's career advice session was a couple of days later on a Wednesday afternoon. She made her way from Ancient Runes class to Slughorn's office, grasping her notebook nervously in her hands. A couple of boys who were not Riddle's followers that were salient in the crowd stared at her. It was true that Eileen was beginning to get a lot more attention now that she had the elixir that made her exceptionally attractive, but still recognizable.

She knocked on Slughorn's door, but nobody answered. Grasping the doorknob, she walked in on her own accord. Nobody was present. Eileen gingerly sat down on the edge of the chair near the desk. Several seconds later, the little clock rang it's alarm, set for half past two.

Hearing somebody's footsteps from the back of the room that led to the Potion's Master's storage room, the rotund form of Horace Slughorn entered. "Good afternoon, Eileen. I hope a talented prefect like you, has some great ideas in mind regarding your future."

"Er- I guess I do, sir," she said hesitantly. Looking down, feeling a mixture of shame and confusion. She was now so interested in the dark arts. Something she felt was eating at her conscience because if her family knew they would be furious.

Slughorn spent an entire minute, easing himself into his chair and fumbling around. First for a box of crystallized pineapple, and finally a notebook from a file. taking a bite of his gourmet food, he then fished with his sugar-coated fingers through Eileen's records. He slowly nodded his head, as he went through them making crunching noises as he ate.

"I see that your best commodity, is indeed potions. You could go into research with grades like that….or why not follow in your father's footsteps and be a Healer?"

Eileen's mouth-dropped at the thought of her father, whom she loved. She had not thought about him much this term. Her thoughts were all for Tom. "Um-I hadn't thought about being a Healer. But it is a-"

"Great way to increase your fortune. Pardon me, I meant your family's. There is quite a bit of bribes going on at St. Mungo's. Corrupt true, but if I had the opportunity I would….It's your best bet, Eileen."

Eileen bit her lip. There was just such a burning passion inside her to devote her life to dark magic, perhaps even working with Tom Riddle. She knew it may be just a pipe dream in reality, but she couldn't help but fantasize.

"I was thinking along the lines of something new, professor," she said glancing down at her lap, where she was twisting her fingers.

Slughorn's face sagged and he let out a long sigh. "I've heard this so many times. The unconventional path. Few can pull it off, very few. Riddle seems to want to make his way most independently. But to be blunt you don't have the confidence, not like him anyway."

"Oh, yes! How did his career session go, Professor?" Eileen asked with extreme enthusiasm.

Slughorn looked more closely at Eileen, jumping in shock from her sudden outburst of emotion and finally noticed the changes in her appearance, but believed it inappropriate to say to a student that they looked prettier.

"That young man has a lot going for him, Eileen. It took some time to make him at least consider going into research. He'll make out as a fine leader, but not before trying his hand at everything that proves advantageous. He has not made a decision yet, but I'm not worried.," Slughorn finished, smiling.

Eileen had been listening, enraptured, to Slughorn account of the details of Tom Riddle's career advice, which was just that morning. As she started to imagine what Tom would really do, dark thoughts began to surface in her mind. Images of Riddle coercing and manipulating people, just like he did to his followers. The thought of doing this to what her perception was normal people, outside Riddle's gang horrified her. What if when he was known to be Lord Voldemort he hurt her family?

Slughorn was not doing Legilimency in the slightest at the moment. Rather he was taking in Eileen's new appearance once again and trying to work through his mind how a girl could change so dramatically. Innocently, he glanced into her eyes and then her face. She looked like she was pouting, as she lay deep in pensive thought.

"Ms. Prince you look cross….did I offend you my dear?," he asked kindly.

Coming out of her reverie and remembering her aspirations for her future career, her eyes sparkled and her face went back to complacence, "No, not at all. Tom is special, I know exactly what you mean by a leader. He has a wonderful way with people." She involuntarily began to blush crimson.

Slughorn suddenly frowned and his eyebrows went up nearly reaching the top of his receding hair-line. He had just put two and two together, as he certainly was no fool, but sometimes it was harder than most for Horace to see the obvious.

"You're close to Tom, on a personal level, Eileen?"

"…I suppose so, sir," Eileen said gulping. She did not want to talk about this it was supposed to be private. She glanced into the teacher's eyes as she answered his question.

"Have you been brewing yourself a potion to please him?"

Eileen's eyes filled with terror. It was not the truth, but it was close. She shook her head, as her eyes continued to be stricken with fear. Nobody could discover the truth of their relationship.

After a silent moment, Slughorn decided to call an end to the meeting, " Well…this concludes our career consultation. To be frank, I'm a little worried for you, young lady. Don't forget your hopes and dreams. You're a talented student, and a prefect. I wouldn't want to lose you."

"No…er professor. I'm not about to do anything rash. Uh...I mean I'm not making love potions," she mumbled, and a lump formed in her throat.

"I know you wouldn't do that , never knew a Prince who was rash. You all so wisely weigh your options," he complimented.

"Thank-you. I best get going or I'll be late. Good-bye Professor Slughorn " she spat out in an unfriendly voice.

Eileen rose in a hurry and dashed out the room, her bag swinging over her shoulder. The mention of her family made her feel so alone. It was like they were no longer a part of her identity.


	15. Murder in the Bathroom

It was a radiant Saturday morning on the twelfth of June in 1943 of Riddle's fifth year, a Saturday. Ravenclaws with blue and bronze outfits donning rosettes and Slytherins clad in their green and silver colors were leading the school out. Everyone was going down to the Quidditch field to see the final match of the season and the entire year, which would determine the Quidditch championship and which house would hold the Quidditch Cup. Gryffindor had been in the running for the championship for a while, but recently had a series of unfortunate events. In their last game, they lost 50 to 150, and got them out of the running for the first time, and into fourth place for the first time in nearly 75 years.

Myrtle could be found as if lost in deep thought, as she trailed in the middle of the enormous crowd. She was the only Slytherin present in the midst of the cheering not wearing the festive colors of her House. Instead, she was just wearing her black usual cotton robes that were terribly creased.

As she plodded forward, shuffling her feet, the girl who loved to bully Myrtle scouted her out. She nudged her friends, and they began to laugh. Myrtle pouted, the dimples on her cheeks pinching. Olive Hornby suddenly started waving at more of her associates and then pointed at Myrtle again as she sang,

"Moping, moaning Myrtle!  
Her glasses as dumb as her wits.  
With pus in her eyes  
From all that she cries.  
And she spits on her reflection,  
To not see her mud-blood  
deflection! Oh!  
Moping, moaning Myrtle!…  
With glasses as dumb as her wits!"

"Woo-hoo!," said the girls in her group to signal approval. Then they all began to shout it at the top of their lungs. They had clearly memorized this together, as a plan to embarrass Myrtle. It worked easily, as it didn't take much for Myrtle to feel harassed.

Myrtle just raced back towards the castle, away up the steps that lead inside to the main entrance and on towards her favorite place to dwell in her misery in seclusion on the third floor. Her body was already wracking with sobs. She couldn't take her glasses off, because she was far-sighted, and therefore wouldn't be able to see where she was going.  
Once she got inside her favorite stall, she yanked her glasses off with one hand and threw them off her face, and wiped her eyes. She had not surmised the full extent of their insult about her muggle-born roots. Then she dejectedly slumped herself on top of the toilet's tank as she always did.

Her usual moaning slowly started and over the passing moments grew into howls. It was the worst state she had ever been in. It wasn't just crying, rather bordering on a tantrum, made all the worst because Myrtle knew there was no audience for it as all of Hogwarts was out to watch the game, or so she thought….

After another couple of minutes, she heard somebody enter the hollowed bathroom and close the door. Myrtle remained locked in her cubicle determined to make the supposed girl she thought was there to come to console her or at least get angry with her, if that was the only attention she could get. Her breathing changed to hiccups and shallow intakes of her unknown last breaths. It calmed her to think there was someone to complain to.

Riddle had never been planning to go to the Quidditch match that day. He was using as an opportunity to do some last minute purging of the school, through instructing his basilisk. He went over to the row of sinks directly opposite the row of stalls. In the middle was the exact entrance. Riddle listened to the pitiful woes, knowing perfectly well that Myrtle was lurking about. He did not care much either way, whether she died or not. Although it was almost inevitable that she would. Myrtle was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time with nowhere to run .

First Riddle told the snakes on the taps to open up in the proper language. As he did so, the taps glowed a brilliant white. The eyes of the snake looked oddly alive, as they thrived spinning like clockwork. Then the sink began to move soundlessly and a large pipe was revealed.

He continued in a low, soft hiss. Myrtle was becoming paranoid from this sound, and she did not react for several seconds. She was too afraid of this strange noise and then she deciphered that it was some kind of language that was extremely foreign to her.

"Slytherin's heir…summons you. Come forward!," Riddle commanded the basilisk, while also wondering at what moment Myrtle would emerge like a jack-in-the-box from her toilet. He was aware of just what motivated Myrtle. He knew, with near certainty that she would come out soon because she is so intrusive over others.

At the precise time, Riddle started speaking in Parseltongue, Eileen Prince was passing the bathroom. Through the walls and doorways, she could just make out that whisper-like noise in the silent, deserted corridors. She was feeling stressed as well as leaving the party because she was no longer was interested in Quidditch, but rather more risky, discouraged activities like dark magic, or even just to skulk around the school.

It sounded familiar to her. Her heart then started to pound as the comprehension that it had to be Tom dawned on her. Any other student or teacher or other staff-member (except Dumbledore) would have discounted the sound as perhaps their imagination or just a regular whisper. But Eileen had heard it before and had it explained to her.

Afraid to meddle in Tom's many closely guarded secrets, she cringed. But her courage mounting, she took a deep breath and pushed the door of the bathroom ajar. She just had to see him, as they had not been getting their alone time since March.

Busy concentrating, Riddle didn't detect the presence of someone else entering. Eileen stood on the side, a few feet from the narrow doorframe. Riddle was in the middle of the room, with his back turned to her. She prayed to herself that for once, she could just enjoy marvelling him without him seeing her.

Her brown eyes shifted from Tom within those few seconds to what was before him. She had to stop herself from gasping, as her mind began to whirl with questions. A giant, hideous snake was rising out of the wide black hole of the pipe.

The snake was not facing Eileen or Riddle, but rather looking in the direction to their left as the venomous, green snake curved itself, sniffing the air hopefully with it's slits for nostrils. It then, sensing something began to rear and coil maliciously. It was peering around the stalls in the most predatory fashion, and it traversed up nearly the whole space between the sinks and the stalls, and it wasn't even out of the pipe fully.

Eileen fought the temptation to run away or at least retreat into a stall because a part of her was much too entranced by the allure of Riddle's power over his hideous King of Serpents. 

Riddle began speaking in Parseltongue much more forcefully than prior, "GET IT. GO RIGHT TO THAT FOUL BLOOD. LOOK HER IN THE EYE."

He would allow himself to be responsible in some sense for her death. His reason is he wants to see what the school authorities will do when they learn she is dead. It was too grand an opportunity, to miss.

In a split-second a door was unlocked in the stall directly adjacent to the sink with the pipe that the basilisk had come out of. Myrtle swung the door open about to say go away as the tone of the language, made it clear to her it was a boy. 

The snake turned it's head, and flashed it's big yellow eyes like glowing lamps on the young girl. Myrtle was dead before a second passed and she barely registered who owned those pair of eyes. Eileen had heard and seen the event obstructed partially by looking down, avoiding the basilisk, but she wasn't sure if the girl was dead or petrified.

Myrtle's pre-pubesent body began to shrivel up like a mandrake that never got to mature. It happened slowly, as the skin began to curl itself and looked like it was burned and she soon had the appearance of an aged individual. Meanwhile, a misty-gray fog was rising from her body.

Riddle looked down with sheer amusement at the corpse on the floor that was originally dirty for only a few seconds. It was humorous to the young Voldemort that for the first murder he was responsible for, all he had to do was sit back and watch it unfold like entertainment.

But he wasted no time laughing. Keeping himself in check, he became to dispose of the evidence, his presence of mind and rationality was remarkably intact. With a spring in his steps, from this boost to his ego he made a sudden movement back over to the sinks.

Turning to face the basilisk, Riddle signaled with his right hand for it to follow him. Riddle's dark eyes seemed to be electrified with energy as he said in the snake-language, "Do not eat it." He wanted the body to be found, and he glanced at it again with a feint smile of satisfaction. The body continued to have a gray-ness rising over it because Myrtle's spirit was in the process of morphing into a ghost.

Meanwhile, Eileen was shuddering. She had retreated behind the stall door furthest from the man, the murderer she loved and fallen on her knees on the hard surface of the floor. Still peering and peeking towards the horrific scene still unfolding. She was instinctively, terrified for her own life. What if the snake went after her now?

The snake obeyed Riddle who then told it to go back to its nesting place within the bowels of the Chamber. It started slithering back towards the opening, and as it did it shed it's skin gradually. Eileen looked on and all of this made her want to hurl as she watched the serpent from behind move back into the pipe entrance.

Riddle moved like a shadow of darkness once the snake left. There was a tiny red gleam in his electrified blue-gray eyes, but Eileen could not see it with the weak sunlight streaming in. He flicked his wand at the snakeskin on the floor, aware of what could be deduced if that part of the action was left. He directed with his wand and levitated pieces of it and dumped them down the pipes as quickly as he possible. There was a look of glee on his face, as he looked down at the last bit of snake's skin falling.

The Heir of Slytherin proceeded to close the entrance of the chamber planning to re-open it a later, sooner date to continue perhaps with more victims that would actually die and not just be petrified.

The boy Voldemort glided, his footsteps echoing loudly and he stopped in front of the corpse and bent to examine it. He was deciding whether it truly was the ideal location and position to leave Myrtle's body in to make sure there was no sign or chance he could be accused or it could be realized of how she died.

So he moved her. But not before, stepping on her eyes, with the glasses on her face, cracking. Riddle laughed loudly, then took pride in dragging the body to a different stall. He propelled It forward with his wand, and it slid to a different stall. One not in line with the taps that were across that led to the entrance where the basilisk had come out.

Eileen a little more composed, but now had a buzzing inside her head for she was trying to filter out and forget where she was and what she witnessing. But couldn't help but continue to peek at him from her hiding place.

The handsome, Tom Riddle took in another moment of this wonderful feeling to him. He laughed again as if ten Riddle's were ringing with derisive laugher at once. Then remembering the time, he reasoned if he left now he would have just enough time to sneak in the back of the Quidditch stands and make it obvious to others that he had been present for the championship. So he swiftly darted out of the room, not looking to the sides at all, and did not see Eileen partially visibe behind a stall door.

Eileen listened as if to a clock chiming the hour, counting Riddle's sound of him walking down along the corridor. Once it got far enough away, she took a hesistant step out of her safety zone. She then stood in the room, frozen and entranced by it all.

She then jumped as though scalded and fled the room. She ran like she never did in her life for the comfort and security of her dorm-room. Once in her room, she tried to take a nap, but winded up just feeling ill. She wanted to forget all she saw, but she just couldn't. She was in a state of shock. The boy she loved had practically killed that little girl, Myrtle. Eileen tried to come up with a reason why. She was at a loss for now. But what was worse, was the indecent if not bestial way he had responded to what transpired. She just might go insane with this love for Tom she thought mixed with memories like the one she was now stuck with.

The Slytherins were still celebrating their victory several hours later in their common room. Tom Riddle was smartly cautious. He did not emerge from the common room for the rest of the day after coming back into the school. He mingled among the crowds talking with everybody as his followers all made actions of poor attempts to copy his sophisticated style of interaction. People continuously gave there own blow-by-blow accounts of the final Quidditch match, Riddle did not pay a mind to remember this useless information. Many gloated over the fact Slytherin would be winning the House Cup as well as the school Quidditch cup for the fifth year in a row, Riddle came to dwell on Slytherin's triumphs, the ones that had nothing to do with Quidditch.

So everyone was enjoying themself despite the fact that exam time was mere weeks away. They all had decided to take the evening off for this great celebration. All except Eileen Prince, who was slumped in the furthest corner of the room, by a fireplace and staring into it. She did not look upset just odd and plain.

After a while, Horace Slughorn came in through the double-doors, which closed with a loud, echoing sound over the hollowed room. Most people looked to see who had come through the least used entrance into the Common Room. After a moment, everybody except Eileen were gathered around him. It was very unusual to have a Head of House come into the common room as it only occured for significant reasons.

Slughorn cleared his throat, and spoke slowly, "I regret to inform you all that Myrtle Maudley d-died…this afternoon in a freak accident. " Slughorn swallowed , "I repeat this was an untimely death for such a young girl and there was no foul-play. None at all," he stressed.

People eyed Slughorn carefully, and then slowly looked at each other. A minority of the more decent people from Slytherin actually had tears in their eyes. Eileen remained hidden, slumped in a chair, staring at the floor, but listening closely.

"But how did she die, sir?" somebody in the back of the crowd asked with innocent curiosity.

"The story is that it must have been a freak accident. It happened in a girl's lavatory on the third floor…." Slughorn started shaking a bit, and dabbed his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief. "Investigations are underway to get the facts straight…. when this happens I'm sure it will be published," he finished, as meant to be a finalizing note not to ask any more questions.

But many of the older students were now looking in varying forms of suspicion regarding Slughorn's anouncement. Many sensed that this was not the truth or at least a half-truth.

"And who discovered the body professor,"? a girl asked from the sidelines. Meanwhile Riddle was looking around at everyone, including at times looking straight at Slughorn. He felt little fear, but still crossed his arms protectively.

Becoming agitated Slughorn said quickly, "She was found by a little first-year. I believe the Headmaster and Dumbledore said she was in Gryffindor…Now I've been told by the Headmaster to advise you all strongly against leaving the common room until tomorrow afternoon. I also-"

Somebody interrupted arguing, "But why? We're not under danger, as it was an accident?"

"The school is being scoured for the cause as it may be…mobile. All the entrances into the castle are barred at the moment. So don't ask me any more questions. I advise you strongly to abide by the Headmaster wishes, and remain here until it is safe," people began to frown icily. They wanted to all get a chance to go outside and enjoy the good weather tomorrow.

Responding to this Slughorn finished, "I don't make the rules about leaving the school and such. So don't ask questions. If you must complain about an inconvenience take it up with the Headmaster, not your Head of House. Good-night."

Slughorn left in a hurry to get away from everyone as he knew more than he was allowed to divulge, plus he wanted to be in the safety of his own bed. The room instantly began to buzz with conversations and people developed theories as to what was really happening. People could tell Slughorn was reluctant to disclose everything.

The most intelligent rumor circulating was that it was the Chamber of Secrets and the mysterious Heir of Slytherin. But most people scoffed at this idea. People also started to wonder if the school was going to close. Perhaps the legend was truly alive and took the life of Myrtle Maudley? But over the next few hours, the room went back to It's euphoria over winning. Most people had thought Myrtle's death to be a loss that meant little to nothing to their House or the school. She had been an un-intelligent, easily manipulated, unpopular mud-blood, and a stain on Slytherin House after all.

By around eleven o'clock most Slytherins had went off to bed. A handful of upper-classmen were gathered around, drinking butterbeer, Tom Riddle amongst them. Eileen was still in the room, but unnoticed, still in the least inhabited space.

An attractive blond-haired girl asked rhetorically, "Do you think the petrified people will still survive?"

Riddle raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly at the girl.

"Yeah, I guess so," said a surly voice that belonged to Rookwood.

The girl carried the conversation, "But to think….Slytherin's Heir could be someone we know. Old Sluggy looked pretty nervous, didn't he?" she countered a wild guess, just to see people's reaction.

Riddle had the nerve to discuss it amongst his peers, "Well, I didn't have anything to do with it…," he said with definitiveness, shrugging.

The girl laughed and said, "I think we can rule you out as a suspect, Tom."

Rookwood busied himself with setting up the chessboard, pretending he did not hear, terrified he would divulge one of his Master's secrets.

"But I wonder," said the girl (who was a great gossip, by the way) "If anyone held a grudge against her?"

Eileen suddenly felt a surge of a memory. She recalled that day in March, when Myrtle had bothered Riddle and nearly put a stain on his glowing reputation because she claimed he had told her she had no future and the other Prefects were annoyed. But he had somehow weaseld out of that. Eileen began to mull this over, searching desperately for a good reason for Riddle to not care that he was responsible for Myrtle's death.

Another broke into the conversation, "That Olive Hornby liked to bully her…a lot. Maybe it was her."

Holding his drink in his hand, Riddle just looked up and shook his head as if annoyed. He was partially burning with desire at the moment to be recognized for his crimes and being noted as the Heir of Slytherin.

Nobody responded to this idea of Hornby wanting to hurt Myrtle . After a short pause, Riddle whispered sounding serious, "All we know, is that Hogwarts is not safe anymore. Whatever the accident entailed, it is said to be mobile. That means we all must be on the look-out." He said that because he had also enjoyed scaring people and now was a great time to. The blonde-hair girl shuddered.

….But for now," he started suddenly his demeanor, suave, "Let's finish our celebration with me, beating Augustus at chess? So how about it Rookwood?"

So Riddle played chess, acting cocky and self-assured. He leaned back in his chair after all his turns, smiling pleasantly. Meanwhile the few people left watched Riddle's brilliant strategies unfold on the board. Of course, he didn't always win as even a grand master doesn't, but he only lost a couple of times a year at Wizard's chess.

Eileen disappeared feeling righteous anger at Riddle, yet she still loved him. Yet her heart filled with disgust for how he acted tonight so cooley speaking of his crimes. Eileen was beginning to believe he had Myrtle die out of revenge, which was not accurate.

As Tom finished his game several minutes later, he made the analogy of the game to his future plans to dominate the wizarding world. Finishing up, he ordered his bishop to capture Rookwood's king even thouugh in normal wizard's chess the pieces gave their orders. But with Tom he, the player always did. And Eileen Prince, why she was hardly a pawn that he could sacrifice whenever he felt the need to.


	16. Dangerous Games

Clouds of darkness seemed to hang over Eileen's conscience. She could not do nothing whilst a storm of passion surfaced inside of her. She was torn between her guilt in being a silent witness to Riddle's hand in Myrtle's death and her passion and allegiance towards him.

She woke up the next morning and wrenched off her bed covers. She looked around at her roomates sleeping peacefully. She wished she could be them for a moment. All they had to worry about was their impending O.W.Ls exams in the week coming up. Eileen frowned and felt anger at the thought that if she didn't find a way to clear her head, she would surely screw up her own OWLs.

But then her thoughts shifted to Tom. She couldn't bare give the information that could possibly ruin his life. But this was, Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, as she quickly remembered the name he preferred. And she felt a sinking in her heart as she realized that nobody was going to believe her when she had nothing to prove it was him. They could not even draw it out of Eileen's mind if they wanted to. She was repressing the actual images from her conscience, as she scarcely wanted to recall the details.

So that afternoon she dragged herself outside of the common room and up to the seventh floor corridor. She could not get Riddle expelled. She would try to make it sound as if it wasn't as bad as it had been. She certainly wasn't about to tell his secrets either. But it was anger that drove her towards action that Tom had such indifference to the fact that he was responsible for Myrtle's death. Eileen knew it was wrong, but she supposed even he could make mistakes as she had never realized until yesterday. He would surely come around and realize that he had to make an apology. As she was a Prefect, she knew the Headmaster's password to get past the stone gargoyles and into his study. She felt like she was going to the gallows and taking the man she loved there as well. She had to clear her conscience, but she was also determined to protect Riddle in a sense.

Her knuckles white, her hands shaking she knocked on Professor's Dippit's door. The wizard said in a tired voice, "Enter...please." Eileen slowly opened the door, looking down all the while…

"Professor Dippit. I…er," Eileen began with a loss of what to say. She couldn't just blurt something out of this nature, if she wanted to absolve Tom.

Dippit looked up from the many books on the surface of his desk, scratching his head over his wispy, white hair. The room was dark, with only a couple of candles lit. Despite being morning he had not drawn the curtains. Straining his eyes in the semi-darkness Armando Dippit said, "Eileen Prince…a Prefect, correct?"

Eileen nodded and then before she could speak Dippit said sharply, "What are you doing outside the Slytherin quarters? Didn't your head of house tell you not to leave them as a precaution from the attacks?"

Eileen took a step closer and said, "Yes, professor but I wasn't thinking of that, sir for I have…something to say about the attacks," she argued meekly.

Dippit was too surprised to get up and draw the curtains to allow light in. He just sat straighter and folded his hands, which was a nervous gesture of his. "What exactly do you know?," he squeaked his beady eyes fixed right on her.

Eileen did not take the initiative, but stared at the floor once again. She was too terrified to speak, as she thought of Tom Riddle and all her passion for him.

"Why don't you sit down, my dear? I understand it can't be easy to recollect," Dippit said kindly.

"Thank-you…," Eileen mumbled and in haste went to the nearest chair and her hands clung to her sides over the arm-rests. It felt like she was in court giving testimony as she continued, "I saw….Myrtle Maudley die. I know who's accountable for what happened," Eileen mumbled.

Dippit's eyes popped and he said curiously, "Who is it? And how did that poor girl meet her end precisely? "

Eileen scrunched her eyebrows as if pained by thinking. She suddenly looked up from the floor and straight at Dippit, "There was a basilisk as I-I was hiding behind a stall door when I saw it. She was crying and moaning, and Myrtle opened the door and looked at the snake. I think that killed her. The b-boy directed it…I think he was negligent, but did not do it on purpose." She had forced to speak without emotion as she strained to tell her tale from the memories were not detailed, as she was repressing them and they were blurred and sluggish.

"What boy was involved?"

Eileen gulped, took a breath and croaked, "Tom. Tom Riddle."

Dippit's face sagged with his many wrinkles. Cocking his head from confusion he said "This is a very serious accusation, to accuse Tom Riddle of something this horrendous." His voice was grave, but he was growing offended for her to accuse his best student of Hogwarts of opening the Chamber of Secrets. Armando was still trying to overcome his pride and shame over discovering that the Chamber of Secrets had to be real only just last night.

"I know! But, Headmaster. I assure you, it was…an accident! He has such a grand future. I don't think Tom deserves to be expelled. He-"

"Of course he doesn't! For where is your evidence?" he snapped, as anything without logic had always annoyed Dippit.

Eileen bit her lip, but would not answer for she knew she didn't have any. All the while, fighting her fears for herself and her fear for Riddle's sake.

The Headmaster sighed heavily. He did not like that she was so emotional about it and thought perhaps she was deluded within a vivid imagination. Composing himself again he chose his words carefully, "Unless you have something of truth and weighted value to communicate, I am afraid you're not making much sense, my dear."

"Why aren't I making sense?", she hotly demanded.

"For one thing, you just begged me not to punish the accused in question, despite your declaration of his guilt. I never heard of such a thing," he admonished. "Secondly, Riddle is a most outstanding member of this school and it is ridiculous for me to do anything or investigate….his character. "

"Your right…but," Eileen steadied herself and suddenly let out all the stress her conscience was under, "I saw him kill her and examine the body and laugh about it, sir! It makes me sick! I'm mad that he can get away with this and-"

"Stop ranting, you are being quite foolish Ms. Prince," Dippit actually bellowed.

She stopped and he smiled at her pleasantly, which he meant as a gesture for Eieen to convince her to listen to logic, "All I can conclude is that your story cannot be true. Nor, is there any reason to investigate a boy like Riddle as fond as I am of him. In fact, Riddle just owled me this morning requesting an appointment with me, and I'm sure it will be obvious he is innocent when I see him later...So it is time for you to depart."

She suppressed glaring at him and left the Headmaster's study without taking another look in Dippit's direction. But as Eileen walked back down the corridors to the common room she felt some real relief for she had cleared her conscience. She had tried, and that was all she could do. "At least I can concentrate on my O.W.L.s now," she thought.

A flash of insight had erupted in Riddle's mind when he had spoken to Armando Dippit the night of the same day Eileen had accused him. It was only furthered the next day when he received his award for special services to the school. Proceeding this, gloomy Monday was the fifth year's O.W.L. exams. Eileen Prince felt it perfectly understandable for Tom to not seek her out during exam week.

It was late in the day on a Sunday evening, before the last day of term. Eileen was in a depressed, foul mood. For the first and foremost reason, she was nit-picking over her O.W.L. exams and all the mistakes she believed she made, and secondly she was agonizing over the fact that she was not spending the last few days before summer break with Tom.

She was sitting in the courtyard between the main corridors, alone and reading yet another book on the Dark Arts that she had stolen from the Restricted section. Of course, it had not been easy to steal under the librarian's nose, but she had managed it thus far. Afterall, she sensed that a tendency towards risky behavior was a requirement to be in Riddle's "Dark Order." 

It was getting harder for her to read, as the sun was already well on it's way beneath the horizon. She kept looking up, hoping somebody she knew would appear. A little while ago, the courtyard had been teeming with people, but now the last few stragglers were dispersing. The lights around the perimeter were being turned on through automatic magic.

After a few minutes alone in the silence, she saw a tall figure entering the outer hallways surrounding the courtyard and come into view.

She blushed as soon as soon as she recognized it was definitely Tom. She could never mistake his dark blue-gray eyes, that right now contained a spark of delight as he approached her, crossing the courtyard's lawn. He was handsome boy alright, but not your typical looks. One could always distinguish him from any other good-looking young man.

He sat down beside her on the bench, and turned with an inquiring intensity, peering straight into her brown eyes, "The OWLs exams are over and done with, Eileen. No need to worry about them until mid-July," he said airily. He wanted to brush her mind right past this topic, as for a very prudent purpose.

"I know, how do you think you did…T-er….?," she asked slowly, trying to be careful not to slight him.

Tom shook his head, and said quietly, "No,…not here." Then he looked over his shoulder as if afraid somebody was eavesdropping. He had just seen in Eileen's mind that she was wondering if he expected her to call him Lord Voldemort.

A second later he picked right up in his train of thought, "Spectacular…all across the board, of course," he said as if it was glorious. "I did things with a wand in charms and transfiguration, which you wouldn't be able to dream of, Eileen. I may have frightened my examiner…from my powers," he recounted, casually.

Eileen did not know whether to believe that story, but she felt sure Tom got all Outstandings, the highest mark possible. Although this was true, he had frightened his examiners, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

For a long moment, the young Voldemort looked at her. It seemed he was drinking in the sight of her in the glowing light of dusk. It was true, she was now beautiful, but still unkempt in style, which prevented her from being stunningly attractive at the present. But even, Riddle felt a twinge of his own desire. Eileen just nervously glanced at him now and again, trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace in Riddle's company.

Leaning closer, Riddle whispered, "How do you… feel about your master, Tom Riddle being the Heir of Slytherin?" Riddle had a very exact reasoning, from his hunches to state this.

After he said the above, he closed in with such proximity to her eyes and face, that Eileen felt claustrophobic. She tried to smile, but it faltered sharply. Her stomach dropped as she recalled what she had seen him do, and her breathing became panting. "Um…it's awe-inspiring, Tom. I love how powerful you are," she said, but she did not sound sincere. Her positive wording, was no where near the affliction she felt at the recall of her belief that she had seen him kill Myrtle Maudley out of twisted revenge.

Impulsively he suddenly asked heatedly, "As you know, the Chamber truly was opened, but is now sealed….but you didn't tell anyone whom the Heir of Slytherin is?" This was not the true information, Riddle was trying to glean out of her, but it was the correct route to take with her not being any the wiser.

Eileen felt lthe balmly air of the June evening had turned to a palpable frostiness. There was something about the way he was talking to her, that was beginning to make her feel dread. "No, I would never…", she drifted off, going back to the time last week when she accused him to Headmaster Dippit.

"Look at me…I love looking at my beautiful girl…. You're such a refined beauty now your reinvented," he complimented, speaking his words quickly, but smoothly. It was the perfect phrase to get Eileen to look straight at him, as she tried to resist remembering what she had done, but unfortunately the memory persisted at the forefront of her consciousness.

After a few seconds, Tom had a very firm appearance, his lips drawn in a tight line, his eyes narrowed, but full of a light, Eileen wrongly assumed to be a wonderful desire for her. Finally he spoke, "No, I knew you didn't." But he was still looking at her very suspiciously, watching her closely.

"I got that half-breed, Rubeus Hagrid, expelled. But everyone except the school governors and Headmaster thinks it's him. As if he had the brains or the power!," Riddle seethed. And then hitting the hammer right on the head of the nail (or into Eileen's head) he said, "Aren't you glad I disposed of Myrtle Maudley?"

Eileen's face turned white, remembering how she hid behind a stall door as the King of Serpents had attacked poor Myrtle. "Yes, it was a good choice to g-get the only Slytherin muggle-born, Tom." She said, her eyes filling with tears of hurt remembering how remorseless he had behaved.

Speaking with lack of affect Tom said as he raised her hand and kissed it, "My favorite pure-blood witch is finally worthy of the Heir of Sytherin. Your good enough for me, but don't you want more?"

Eileen sighed with absolute contenment, "I'm good enough for you, really?" She now looked truly happy, happier than she had been in quite a while, perhaps since her first month's ounce of the Elixir of Youth had been given to her.

"Yes…but don't prevaricate. Why not tell me the truth? I must be certain you're not playing a game of deception, Eileen. You wouldn't dare disobey me even indirectly? Or would you?" he said.

But if anyone was deceiving and playing an awful mind game it was Tom Riddle, not Eileen.

"I wouldn't! No!," Eileen cried, becoming animated.

Tom nodded slowly, surveying her appraisingly his eyes still gleaming as if he was hiding something some insights he knew, as he most definitely was.

"In order to pass my judgments as a follower to my creeds, I must assess how far you'll go. That means, any lengths, Eileen. You've already admitted and sworn you'd do anything I ordered, haven't you?"

"Yes…," Eileen said breathlessly. But just then the sound of robes swishing distracted both of them. Out of the blue, quite literally in the mixture of black, grey, and blues of the twilight sky, which casted a silhouette over the courtyard appeared Albus Dumbledore. It was not clear to either of them, how long he had been standing at the other end of the courtyard. He may have made himself invisible.

Tom got up, abruptly and Eileen followed suit. They had to pass Dumbledore as it was the only exit in the courtyard, in which he was standing in front of it transfixed. Perhaps, intrigued by the beauty of the moon rising.

"You ought to get ready and packed, Tom. You too, Miss Prince. You both have a long journey on the train tomorrow." It was impossible for Riddle to ascertain exactly what the Transfiguration teacher had heard or if he had even been listening.

Hurriedly Tom answered his remark, "I was just telling Eileen Prince about the trophy for special services I was awarded, sir."

Eileen and Tom swept past Dumbledore and left the vicinity of the courtyard. Eileen's curiosity peaked at this new piece of information. Meanwhile, Riddle started thinking, "I could never accomplish that at Hogwarts now. So I'll wait as patiently as is needed to get her."

Her jaw dropped at the thought of Tom being presented a trophy, it mostly delighted her, but also shocked her because she knew the truth. "A trophy? Where?," she blurted out, frantic with desire to know.

"Well, if you must know," he said with a sly smile, then pulled her forward, as they were just passing the school's trophy room. Riddle also wanted to show her it to ensure she would not badger him to see it, as he was sure Eileen would, unless he showed her it now.

Entering the room, it was dimly lit because the lights only surrounded the many cases and shelves of nearly a thousand years of awards.

Tom led the way with a look of bliss on his face, from the pleasure he had gotten from getting this award and he was recounting his memories. In the middle section, was the silver trophy on display, Tom Marvolo Riddle embossed on it. Eileen's brown eyes lit up as she stared at it, then held out a hand to touch the handles.

"It was amusing…" he started suddenly. "to console the bereaved. To act sympathetic to the dead girl's parents grief. The mother could not stop saying how comforting my council was," he stated antipathetically. Even though he was speaking of an experience that most would feel emotional about, Tom was detached. 

Eileen frowned and said, "But why did you get the award for special-?"

Coming out of his reverie he snapped, "It was a cover-up, Eileen. They had to make it look like something was done." He looked at her more closely, examining her mind again. To get her to think about what she witnessed in the bathroom again he described more of his speaking to the family, "The family was of course upset. The father was actually bright enough to question if it was an accident. He ruminated over how anyone could have something against an innocent girl," Riddle looked at her closely as he finished confiding.

He saw in her mind, Eileen thinking of her anger at Riddle letting Myrtle die out of revenge because of what happened that day in March. Voldemort gave her an incredulous look of disbelief. How could she think that mudblood was important enough to kill passionately?

He continued to frown at her. Eileen became startled and said, "What's wrong, Tom? You look offended…was it something I-"

"No…No, I'm fine," he said softly. He smiled mechanically, "I'll be honored before the school at the leaving feast tomorrow. I couldn't be in a better mood from the recognition." Although that was not really true. "But you, Eileen. You should keep in mind the vows you made at the initiation."

"I am! I'm not being...disobediant. Why remind me now?" she asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"Well…" said Riddle pleasantly. "You don't want to wind up dead, do you? All that Elixir will have gone to waste.…on a corpse," he said with sarcastic disappointment.

"Tom, please! You're scaring me."

"How inspiring for me to see the first one die!," he burst out heatedly. This was being caused by inner, well-hidden anger he was harboring at the moment.

"Th-the first one?!," Eileen stammered.

"When I rise to power of course they'll be many who will have to die," he stated blandly, for it was just a simple fact to him. "Why, I believe I feel aesthetic pleasure from seeing someone lose their power in death."

"I have to go…now. It's late," she said, rushing out of the trophy room desperate to escape him. Her feelings were telling her there was something incredibly spooky about this conversation, and she was in denial about how it related to her.

Voldemort's hand twitched towards his wand, as if he was going to stop her. He was secretly furious at her, planning on what he would do when the time was right. The hand that twitched for his wand, just broke apart, and his fingers spreading as Tom considered how he could get her in grasp and at his mercy again. He knew it would not be as easy as it was with Myrtle to get away with it all.

Tom then followed her direction, all the while calculating just what he was going to do with Eileen Prince, on the first golden opportunity he could get away from Hogwarts, and the watchful eye of Dumbledore, who was lately observing Tom much more closely.

At the Leaving Feast, the next day Professor Dippit got to his feet beaming, "I am happy to inform you that all six of the petrified people recovered. A thanks is in order for the many that helped make this happen…" He then paused.

Except for the Gryffindors, most looked decently content. Gryffindor had come in fourth place this year, and it was natural for many of those students to feel shame in that.

Nobody seemed to remember the death of Myrtle. In fact, the Great Hall had no shrouds of black. Rather the dark green and shining silver colors of Slytherin were displayed, as they had won the House Cup.

Amongst the sea of faces there were only a few frowns. Dumbledore seemed to have developed more lines over the preceding year. He silently sympathized over how Rubeus Hagrid was not allowed to attend the feast! Eileen Prince was actually anxious, yet her expression looked confused even with her eyes constantly darting towards Tom Riddle, who in the midst of all the emotion, was strikingly impassive.

Dippit plowed on with his speech, despite some wavering attention spans of the hot, sunny afternoon, "It was a difficult year at best. But in spite of the hardships, accidents, and…tragedy, leaders took the initiative. Professor Dumbledore's wisdom and council, always a comfort. Our Herbology Professor's mandrake draught…" He paused once more to some light applause.

"Finally there is one student I am quite proud of. Despite being alone and parentless, to put it nicely, he has succeeded in every sense of the word here at Hogwarts. He even took his time and effort to secure us against some of the threats. For that, I awarded him the honor of "Special Services to the School." Of course, I am talking about Tom Riddle."

Tom did not rise, like the others Dippit had mentioned in his speech had. Rather, he stayed in his seat, heat rising up his pale face. He did not relish the fact that Dippit had mentioned he was parentless, implying he lived in an orphanage. But this reluctance, just made Dippit chuckle lightly, "Please come forward, Mr. Riddle."

Riddle sprung up from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He moved, towards Armando Dippit, standing in the center in front of the staff table. Briefly, he shook hands his expression still so strangely impassive, yet he was looking quite elegant considering the fluidity of how he shook hands. Dippit reacted by commenting, "Such a modest young man you are Tom. Good work, my boy."

At that, Riddle turned to go back, smiling as if he hadn't a care in the world, looking over everyone's heads. Most of them clapped much harder for Tom Riddle than they had for the others.

As Eileen watched Tom, for some reason, tears formed in her eyes. She felt like she was seeing something for the very first time, but she could not pinpoint what it was. She thought it might be something like a façade, but once Riddle was back in his place, it receded.

After this, Dippit went on to congratulate Slytherin House, and it's accomplishments. This only suited Riddle's feelings of superiority that day more, as he inwardly marveled about the legacy he was leaving behind in that diary he had created and of course, being the Heir of Slytherin.

A short while later, all the students were piling onto the train-station platform. Eileen Prince, had went alone, feeling very isolated at the moment. But Tom Riddle, was trailed by a group that had tried to ask him a whole host of questions about what he had done to help the petrified people and the school this year.

A boy, a couple of years younger than Tom, who seemed to wish he could be like him, said, "I wish I could follow your example, Riddle. But why did you feel compelled to do something?"

Stepping out of the coach, with one black bag, his head held high, Riddle answered, "It was a sense of solidarity. I couldn't watch Hogwarts close….knowing I don't have a home to go to," he answered as if he had been virtuous.

Eileen, several yards in front of him, turned around abruptly at the unmistakably smooth charismatic tone of voice. She bit her lip, feeling a sense of pain at the truth she knew. Eileen then turned away, to find the other prefects.

Riddle did not follow the crowd. He seemed to be watching something as the horse-less carriages drove away. He stared shrewdly at whatever it was, his dark blue eyes were full of a false light in the afternoon sunshine. "So… what I read in Hogwarts: A History is true. Thestrals do exist," he said softly to himself.

Riddle continued to stare at the animals, folding there leathery wings.

Riddle had seen Myrtle die, but to him it had been an interesting and cosmic thing to see and that was how it had sunk in for him. For a death must be witnessed and sunk in, in order to see Thestrals. But to Riddle it was a savage pleasure, to see their reality, as his face formed into an ugly sneer at the thought of what he considered of that human weakness, death.

Heading towarded the train, lost in thought, the seeds were now being planted. Riddle was going to start to search and ponder for a way to make himself immortal.

Eileen hoisted her bag up on the rack, slowly. Then sat down in the plump cushioned booth, exhausted. She was emotionally drained from all the stress she had undergone these past few weeks. Her eyes were closed, until she was jerked awake by the sound of the compartment door sliding.

In came, Tom Riddle, not even glancing at her, as he busied himself, tossing his leather satchel on the top rack. She did not look at him, but continued to stare out at the landscape of the English, countryside, as the turrets and towers of Hogwarts slipped around the curve, the train was turning through, towards Hogsmeade.

He sat down, right next to her in the tiny compartment, slouching a bit. Riddle was in a mixture of both satisfaction with how his year at Hogwarts had went, and great agitation that he would be returning to his orphanage. But even though he was feeling this, he barely showed it.

Eileen couldn't help but continuously glance at Riddle for the next several seconds, out of re-assurance that he was still there. In truth, she was experiencing a sense of loneliness, knowing she wouldn't see Tom Riddle all summer. Being under his rigid control had felt like being in a family within his gang. She did not want to leave, as she was sure she was now strangely disconnected from her blood family. Then she remembered the ritual of the initiation and realized that she had a new family. Her mother and father and all the rest did not know, nor would they ever learn of her obligation and vows to serve the man she loved.

As Eileen glanced once again at Riddle she was able to discern that he was seriously contemplating something and she burned to know what it was, but didn't dare ask. Although only a minute passed, he finally faced her, looking her in the eyes as if greatly stimulated by her appearance, "Disappointed in leaving Hogwarts, aren't you, Eileen? I'm sure you'll have a good summer….Even when feeling separated from your family, . But if you really are determined to be special towards me…you must make sacrifices."

This had finally caught, Eileen's full attention. The light in the soft brown irises of her eyes sparkled as she asked sweetly, "How do you do that…m-my lord? You have such a way with understanding all about me like nobody else!" She meant what she said, feeling comforted in her belief that Tom Riddle cared to understand her feelings.

Riddle raised an eyebrow and spoke charmingly, "Just a useful talent, I possess in great measure, it's called Legilimency, Eileen." At this, he thought of all he learned of his clever interrogation of her just a few days ago. Suddenly there was a subtle, but pronounced darkness. Riddle was recalling her lame attempts to deceive him, and he was still furious. The young Voldemort was still instrumental, in calculating just what he was going to do to her. "But there is no need to feel alone, when you're in my presence. And let me remind you…"

But Riddle instantly, stopped as soon as he heard a loud knock on the door, and one of the prefects entered, and frantically complained, "Let's go. We all, have prefect rounds to complete…then we can finally relax!"

Riddle looked up as if exasperated and said in an almost bored voice, "Yes. What is it? Carter and Johnson fighting again over that girl right now?"

"Yes, how do you know this, Tom?," the boy asked, surprised.

"Just do….Simple, decent people are so easy to figure out," he muttered casually.

The prefect nodded at Eileen, expecting her to come along as well. But Tom shook his head and answered, "No. Eileen isn't feeling up to it today. Motion-sickness."

Eileen's face screwed up in annoyance, that Tom had to lie like that. "No – I'm okay, really."

"I'll be back shortly, Eileen to help you," he said as if he was going to do her a favor, winking at her and the two boys left the compartment. He had done that, as a small way to put restrictions on her, and taking privileges without her knowing. Riddle thought she needed to learn a lesson from her mistakes in confessing what she had witnessed and putting, Lord Voldemort's reputation in jeopardy.

Coming back from the last rounds he finished on his own, Riddle went back to his place reserved for the two fifth-year prefects of Slytherin.

Withdrawing his wand made of yew, the young Voldemort used magic just to close the blinds of the aisle window. He had an agenda to speak with Eileen Prince, one that was not going to be an open request and nor did he wish for people to see them together.

"I'm really going to miss being with you. For all you've done for me, Tom. Because without you, I'm nothing, nobody…." she said.

Tom Riddle had listened carefully to her little disclosure but just answered dryly, "That's all to be expected. Yet, you should be thinking of my dire circumstances, Eileen. I have to live with Muggles in an orphanage. Meanwhile, you're in the comfort of Stonewall Estate." He had spoken as if envious, but really did not care at all. In Riddle's mind, it was best to press his advantage through laying another touch of guilt.

Eileen filling with compassion and desperate to reveal her sympathy for him, "I know, but what could I do? Oh, an orphanage! They must treat you horribly there…. you are brave to return to it alone every summer." She was once again thinking of her admiration of his whole personality.

At these words, which were sincere from Eileen, Riddle's expression hardened. He did not take kindly, from a follower feeling pity towards him. Riddle just swallowed hard and remembered his immediate objective as he silently promised himself he would teach her better at a later date.

"Forget the orphanage!," he spoke as if angry. "That place holds no intrinsic value to me. They're afraid and rightfully so. When I want to, I hurt them," he explained with delicate simplicity. "Now…to change the subject. To use your words, Eileen, it is true that without me, you'd be nothing and nobody. But do you know why?"

"Should I tell you my opinion? Th-the real one,L-Lord Voldemort?" She then smiled, glad she was able to say his preferred name.

"Yes," he said firmly. "Remember, that even before the words come out, I know if you're contemplating an attempt at lieing."

"Without you, I'd be weak. I need to be closer to you so badly… and I desire protection through power."

"That's a start. The reality is that your desire matches up perfectly with the next step to serving dutifully. Dark magic is about power. Weakness is never beneficial, even if being subservient to your master, Eileen…." Riddle paused folding his hands, composed after speaking pursuasively and as if he was explaining a whole new system of information.

Then a flash of greed appeared in his eyes as he announced leaning closer beside her, "Possession. That is the answer and key to all your worries, Eileen. You say you want to be closer to the future Dark Lord, what better way than for I, to possess your body?"

His real motivation was selfish. Riddle was planning on it being his first experiment on a possible way to solve the puzzle of achieving immortality. He smiled awfully at the thought of something going wrong, and Eileen's death.

Eileen gasped, and almost hyper-ventilated. She was caught between sheer desire and terror. "How would it work?"

"You'll see soon enough, darling. But it should and will be a beautiful experience," Riddle said, as he was not going to tell her the details on possession. "But don't be afraid. You'll be enhanced by my powers and therefore protected," he added soothingly, sensing Eileen's fear.

Riddle felt aroused by Eileen and was staring at her. Eileen noticed it, but wrongly misinterpreted it to be positive, when it was really about Riddle's hidden indignation regarding her behavior. Sitting right next to him she felt compelled to do something drastic and she was further encouraged from the few seconds he stared at her.

Thinking of her love for him, she put her arm around his broad shoulders and her head against his chest, where she could hear his heart beating. 

"I trust you, I know you'll protect me," Eileen whispered as a response to what he said a moment ago.

Riddle's expression changed from cool surprise, to a much more bleak expression. Eileen was not frightened she just laughed as she was delighted that he was allowing her to be affectionate.

He answered as if being sweet, "I have total control and you love it, don't you Eileen?"

"Yes, Tom," she dreamily answered. Responding to this, Riddle kissed her while still in his arms, his lips brushing her roughly. Then lowered her so that her head was in his lap and he started caressing her dark-brown hair.

"You're so handsome, Tom," Eileen murmured, looking up at him.

Tom's eyes glinted near malevolently from her comment, thinking of the beauty she had now become and how he wanted to destroy it. "I hope you can remain at ease, Eileen. I can't wait to possess you, for then you shall finally satisfy me in terms of powers. I want to keep a piece of you forever."

"You mean a piece of me in your heart, right?," Eileen asked, thinking it was like a poetic expression.

Riddle nodded slowly and smiled. But underneath he was silently seething and plotting revenge for her transgressions in informing Professor Dippit.

The pistons blew and the train came to a halt. Tom pulled Eileen off of him immediately and grabbed his bag, and handed Eileen's to her.

"I said I'd be taking a trip near Hangleton, and you never know, you just might bump into me," he finished with a bit of sarcasm.

Eileen looked at him, smiling as she delved into her bag, looking for a slip of paper. But before she could get her stuff together, Tom left the compartment and departed off the train. Eileen finally found what she was looking for after a few moments.

Desperate to get to say good-bye to Riddle, she pushed her way through the now crowded aisle. Once outside, her eyes adjusting to the light, she did not find him. Crestfallen, she rolled up the slip of paper, that had her address written on it. She had wanted to say good-bye to Tom Riddle and to ask him to write to her over the summer.

But her heart filled with budding hope, as she slowly tread down the platform. Tom had hinted that he was going to visit her!


	17. Horcrux Homicides

Just as evening was approaching on a Saturday of the first week of July, Eileen Prince glanced in a looking-glass mirror. She looked sophisticated clad in satin dress-robes of gold. She continued to glance in vain at different angles in the mirror, just as most any sixteen-year-old girls do. Yet, Eileen had never really done that before. Eileen's usually pale face, was flushed a deep pink.

Her thoughts resurfaced once again to Tom Riddle and she strained to imagine Riddle standing with her in the mirror, as she filled with passion.

Forgetting about the party her family was having that night, she immersed herself at the desk where she had hoarded several volumes from her family's library. All of them concerning elements of dark magic.

But tonight, she decided to quit studying and took out a journal and a quill. Seconds later, her hand flew across the parchment feverishly. In tiny, but curly writing she wrote:

Dear Tom:

I hope you can read these letters one day. They are going to explain everything. I think if you did, you would finally understand. But please realize that I am trying to understand you. How is that love must be an "illusion of grandeur?" Love is a wonderful and real thing, Tom! I am so in love with you and miss you so badly. I want you to know that I feel for you so much and all your pain. Of course, I am taking my elixir like you said to and won't break the Unbreakable vow. I know you do care if I broke my-"

"Eileen! Get out of your room, and come to the party. There is a young man, I want you to meet." The voice was raspy and sounded totally stubborn.

Eileen threw her quill down and rose, clearly irate. She was speechless. How could her mother think there was any man for her besides Tom Riddle? Eileen vaguely remembered how her mother, Marie Prince nor her father Graham Prince, nor her six-year-old brother, Francis Prince, knew of the name.

Feeling like a prisoner, Eileen jumped out of the chair and threw a crystal figurine across the stone room. It shattered into hundreds of fragments.

But Eileen didn't care. She detested staying in the room that looked like it was made for royalty, because she was jaded from the life-style of being a wealthy pure-blood. 

"NO," she said loud enough and forcefully enough for her mother to hear.

There was a long pause as Marie Prince pursed her lips, wondering what to say. Marie Prince was wearing a trimmed fur cloak and plain white robes. The way she held herself it was apparent that she was an uptight, stand-offish woman. "Tell me what's wrong Eileen?!…Eileen?!" She was now thumping on the door.

"You have not been out all summer. What is wrong with you? Even though you've blossomed, something else is bothering you. Is it the O.W.L.S? They'll be arriving in a couple of days and you'll be yourself again," the mother said, more to herself because she knew her daughter was not going to reply, but at least she knew Eileen was listening. Then her mother left, in a huff and went down, past the twisted balcony.

Eileen sat down at her desk, about to write when she glanced at her cauldron in the corner. It was filled with floo powder. She took a fistful of the shimmering, green powder and pondered sneaking off to London tonight. She hoped to find Riddle's orphanage. She stared at the fireplace straight across from her and weighed her options.

The tranquil blue-flamed candles mixed with the last orange hue of sunlight streaming in from the stain-glassed windows depicting legends of Merlin.

Eileen went to her bed of blue-gray bedcovers with fancy magical designs. She felt despondent in her wish to see Riddle again, for remembering how that was nearly two whole months away. She did not have the faith to believe he would visit her like he had hinted on the train ride.

Eileen resembled a beautiful picture of placid security, comfortable on top of her covers, in the gold dressrobes as she slipped into slumber.

Meanwhile, Tom Riddle was in the gathering darkness just a few miles from Stonewall Estate making his way towards the Victorian style mansion, owned by the Riddles of Little Hangleton...

In one hand, Riddle held an old-fashioned lamp in front of him, raised to light his way. In the other his Uncle Morfin's wand. For he had just stolen it and stupefied Morfin Gaunt.

Now he trekked in the direction of the house, he'd observed earlier in the late afternoon. The gardener, Frank Bryce, whom would be accused by the Muggles had seen 'the teenaged boy dark-haired and pale' (as he would describe to the police) that very day.

After a few minutes Riddle came towards higher ground, and climbed up a steep plateau. He proceeded over the hedgerows and set across a short field.

Coming closer in the silent darkness, his movement rippled from his cloak whipping in the wind. The wind was sweeping and echoing over the hills. 

Riddle glanced upward, frowning at the several windows and the wrap-around porch of the front of the house, situated on top of the biggest hill. It was an imposing building on the higher ground, over-looking most of the valley.

Even though a breath-taking sight when he reached the summit, Ridlde did not waver. He was ruthless in his quest to meet the Riddles and so plundered onward totally consumed in the hatred of his father, Tom Riddle Sr. As well as disgruntled from learning his maternal Grandfather, Marvolo was deceased. In the back of his mind was the despicable thought in discovering that all there was to the Gaunt place (the last family descendents of Slytherin) was a degenerate hovel.

Going up the pathway, Riddle aimed his wand towards his torso and concentrated briefly on the immensely difficult transfigurement to make one invisible. He did not want to risk being seen, as he knew what he was going to do tonight. He'd pre-meditated it for years.

Near soundlessly he went through the front entrance, where the key-hole blazed being un-locked magically. Boldly and fearlessly Riddle stepped into the foyer despite his thought that there may be a butler in attendance. He couldn't help but glance around from curiosity, once he saw nobody to be in the vicinity. Riddle judged it to be a well-kept if not lavishly furnished environment with a sense of ambience about it. There was oil-paintings of portraits of the Riddle family leading up a well-lit stair-case.

Riddle wasted no time with the portraits, more than eager for the real interaction as he set the old-fashioned lamp down on a ledge. Just then, he heard sounds coming from up the wooden stairs and Riddle ascended them.

The door to a drawing room was ajar on the right down the hallway.

Riddle snaked his way over to it, quiet as a shadow.

His dark eyes roved right at all three of them and flashed scarlet at the first look at the Riddle family seated at a long dining table in their drawing room.

Tom felt a mixture of gladness and being anxious to let them know his presence, yet continued to listen to the conversation, undetected.

Clearly, the elderly Thomas Riddle and his wife, Mary Riddle with their middle-aged son, Tom Riddle Sr. had only just sat down for their evening meal.

"I'm not long for this world son, I fear. We can't watch your back forever. You'll be inheriting this property. But first, you must secure our name," he spoke as if complaining along with a grandoisity concerning this most family-oriented of affairs.

Riddle, Sr. looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes with a petulant air. Then sighed looking and evincing that he felt lonely.

Mary Riddle, setting a spoon down, offered consolingly, "I know you loved her, dear. But that's all in the past. You have your future to consider. Your father is right."

Tom Riddle Sr. burst out in a vexed whine still sounding like a young man, "We've gone over this a hundred times!…The only woman I ever loved was her. Cecelia was perfect, until that thing came along," he added with cold derision.

Sixteen-year-old Voldemort's emotions elevated to anger. His knuckle's whitened over Morfin's beech-wood wand now gripping it.

Mary Riddle became firm and less consoling as she turned to look at her son, "Let me suggest writing a note explaining to Cecelia. You have to marry,…I can't die knowing you'll be left with nobody!," she finished her voice choking and tears welled in her eyes.

The young Voldemort just impatiently stalled as he moved closer to his father, quickly losing his will to listen further. But he let them continue, as more was gradually being revealed.

A second later, the middle-aged son retaliated his mother's advice, "She has no respect for me. Not like she used to, at least. How could Cecelia anyway? With all the talk of the scandal in the village. A letter would do no good."

The elderly father cut-in and said, "When you ran off with that tramp, I couldn't believe it."

As if reminiscing every detail, the elderly Mary Riddle said with zealousness, "An abominable, scarlet woman Merope Gaunt was. She duped my son and lied that she was pregnant. Actually feigned pregnancy. Yet I still don't see how."

Thomas Riddle answered on the immediate defense, "Nor do I! I still don't see how it was possible, Tom."

"The village may take my account as folly. Yet I thought my parents would believe that she lured me," Tom Riddle Sr. said from his hurt pride reliving the shame of being the most privileged young man in Great Hangleton going off with the filthiest scum.

His parents listened, rapt as their son gulped and with quiet terror whispered, "She tampered with drinks, put some kind of poison in. Whatever it was made me crazy. I told you before…she was a witch and definitely pregnant and it had to have been from me."

Mary Riddle began to laugh as if to shake off her fear and said quizzically, "Magic! Silly magic? I do believe you dear that she lured you. But no, not a witch. It must of been beauty, yet from what I saw that wretched girl was far from it."

"Well, even if the Gaunt girl was pregnant, who cares who the brat is if it's alive? It's illegitimate. An illegitimate waif at that, I'm sure." the elderly man said confidently.

The teenaged Voldemort decided it was most opportune to appear to them. So he apparated to the head of the table and made himself visible, as it would be most impressive to the father, and grandparents who dared think him insignificant.

With the wand, clenched in his hand at his midriff, Riddle addressed them feeling as if he were royalty addressing his subjects, "Hello, father. Shall I say, long time no see? This is Merope Gaunt's son, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The son that you abandoned with his mother, you just discussed. All three of you, are about to die. Tonight."

Thinking this would frighten the Riddle's, he was irritated when it failed. They just gaped like he was some exotic figure in a museum, the lines on their foreheads' deepening, trying to make sense of it.

"Are you a ghost, or a mean spirit summoned?," said Mary Riddle, the first to catch her tongue. She was the one who most clearly saw what this was. For when an intruder (as in their perspective Riddle was an intruder) catches someone off guard, it is easy to see their intentions and inner-character. On some level, the old woman knew this was evil at it's worst.

Riddle dully frowned at their ignorance and contemptuously answered, "No, I'm alive, of course. I apparated and made myself visible to you as I'm a wizard whose come to destroy all three of you…it's going to be an annihilation of your existence," he finished, rationalizing with them as if it was a refined, civil thing to do so. 

After those words, Riddle took a few heavy steps forward, glaring at one to the next, directly into their disbelieving eyes.

Mary Riddle let out a petrified scream, and almost at once, Riddle's wand was on her and she tottered in the chair. He had used Petrificus totalus, noverbally and so his grandmother was immobilized and muted, yet still capable of looking on.

The two muggle men, quaked under the pressure, they had no gall left inside them to rise and defend her. That exertion, proved in their minds that this stranger did indeed have powers of some sort, and Riddle saw that they were convinced in his control.

So he stood between them, resting his wand on the table, supremely confident they wouldn't touch it. Even if they did, Riddle could definitely retrieve it through a wandless summoning charm.

He put his hands in a characteristic gesture, the long fingertips together like he was acting diplomatic: "Let me explain your actual station in life before I watch your deaths. It's not quite the pompous snobs you esteem yourself to be. You're muggles, part of an inferior people. I'm no waif, even if born from a brute," he beckoned at Tom Riddle, Sr. "And a mother who couldn't save herself, though of my kind being a witch? Yes, that's what happened and left me with nothing. Not even her family managed well! But I'm going to show you some more magic…silly, as it was deemed here before. Yes, I was here and heard that. Whom should have their resolve tested first?"

All the while they had stared with appalled shock at the wizard clad in black robes before them. Tom Riddle Sr. was amazed how very much this man (or was he a boy?) had nearly the same handsome features, like he'd had in the flower of youth.  
"You know what, I think? You're correct," responsed Tom to the old man nodding and pointing at his chest. "I'll start with you, Thomas Riddle. So that I may revel in the agony of your cowardly son, watching. Waiting for me to finish him off."

With absolutely no warning, Voldemort was casting the same spell he'd used on Mary Riddle onto both of the muggle men. Now they were trapped in their seats. All three facing each other, forced to witness each of the other's soon to be suffering.

Riddle liked the way they looked because they were like frozen statues of stone. It worked well for him as that was how he preferred to see them.

His teeth bared, looking vicious, he closed in on the old man. "Crucio!" issued from the boy's lips and sharp rays of light struck the old man's body.

Riddle swerved in the other direction: There was the son sitting parallel to Thomas Riddle, being forced to watch. Voldemort lingered, looking into both of their eyes. He knew the two men wwre locked in coils of pain, feeding off each other. For Thomas Riddle was in pain, and the younger man was empathizing with whatever horrors that most recent spell had conjured. Voldemort's eyes continued to dart between both of them, watching the effect. Emotions like empathy for other's suffering had always fascinated Riddle, because he did not understand it. 

"Terrified? Mortified by the pain coursing through those veins of yours?…" Riddle had addressed the elderly Mr. Riddle. 

"Just another moment…" He was relishing the screaming he could sense going on inside the old man who could no longer think. 

He turned to again peer into the eyes' of his victims. It especially delighted Voldemort to see his father's frustration in his lack of power to stop the events from continuing.

"Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light sailed over to Mary Riddle. She died right on the spot, beside her husband.

Voldemort composed himself as he peered into the old woman's face, at her eyes empty of the light that had been there when she was alive. He thought of how the eyes froze, forever inert, and forever gone of their power. In that instant, he felt pleasure at his own empowerment over taking another's life for the very first time.

"I believe it's justified to proceed with that grandfather of mine," he whispered.

Riddle gave a clear and calculatingly look at Tom Riddle Senior, and raised the wand. Another jet of green light issued.

For a brief instant, he surmised the fact about his second murder. Then turned furiously on the spot, for it was his father's turn to die.

The young Voldemort's eyes were electrified and the red gleam more pronounced than ever. After all, Tom Riddle had just torn his soul into pieces.

"How eagerly I anticipated your death, father. Quite more than any other. Finally, I can eradicate the last bit of the unworthy Riddle line with your death."

He continued to probe into the man's eyes, sensing the man's grief in his parents' termination. Yet Voldemort's eyes were pitiless, still enfused with rage.

With that mad gleam in his eyes, he roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

After a lulling silence, Riddle set Morfin's wand on the table next to some of the utensils the muggle family had used for eating. He then surveyed the scene with fierce pride. Tom's turbulent emotions boiled down and the concentration of how to continue with his so-called "project" kicked in. He had total awareness to assess how to finish his deeds.

Instinctively, he whipped his wand from his deep pockets full of eagerness to accomplish the next operation with his own wand. A nonverbal spell re-aligned the way the bodies were positioned. He levitated the corpse of Mary Riddle onto the floor, then placed Thomas Riddle to the right of his deceased wife and his most-hated father he squeezed between them. He thought how marvelous it was symbolically. How they represented 'mother', 'father' and 'child'. How he would eventually apply his future horcruxes to their deaths'. Voldemort thought the diary would be best to one day make into a horcrux from Mary Riddle's death, the ring his paternal grandfather, as to reflect on Marvolo's heirloom, and perhaps his own wand for Tom Riddle Senior?

Feeling a mixture of rage, stress, and weariness, his forehead throbbing, he simply kept his wand raised. He could feel his hand burning all the way into the very core of his wand. Riddle then projected the unseen energy outward, as a method to mark his the task he had fulfilled.

Voldemort had just cursed the Riddle property. It was a curse to ensure that none but he would ever be able to claim ownership of it. If anyone tried to take up residence whom was not a resident beforehand, they would now die within a short period.

Riddle smiled gloatingly. He was thinking into the future, when he could someday experience the joy in revisiting the scene of his crimes. He gave one last look, absorbing every detail of the drawing room into his consciousness. He wanted to fix this memory in his mind forever.

As he did so, he noticed a glittering green chain of some sort wrapped around the neck of Mary Riddle. Looking disgusted, Tom aimed his wand at the base of the woman's throat. He extracted the piece of jewelry from her. Tom Riddle did not remove it with his bare hands, mainly because one thing Voldemort secretly fears is dead bodies.

He clutched the necklace in his fist, and dropped it into the pocket of his robes.

Without looking back he turned on his heel, and departed the drawing room. Yet not before running his hand over the table, to take Morfin's wand.

Making his way back to the Gaunt's place, he felt an insane urge to get that black stoned ring with the Peverell coat of arms that Morfin had told him about. His heart raced at the adrenaline rush of tearing his soul and his thirst to know the spell to split his soul and hide in objects he subconsciously thoughts of as trophies.

He would modify Morfin's memory to make him believe he committed the acts. He would pocket the ring and then finally, he would make his way to Stonewall Estate to fetch that follower, Eileen Prince.

Top of Form 1

Bottom of Form 1


	18. The Opal Necklace

Eileen was still in a deep sleep, when she was awakened by someone touching her, whilst calling her name. Opening her eyes, a burst of air overtook her lungs: Tom Riddle was standing at the edge of her four-poster bed! 

He had not taken long to find the prodigious structure, that was her home on Stonewall Estate. For he had apparated to the end of High Street, which separated the two villages of Great and Little Hangleton. Next he found the sign that said, "Stonewall Estate." It was concealed between two gnarled trees for only magic-folk to see.

"TOM!"

He put his index finger to his lips, "Quiet, Eileen. Or you'll wake the house." Riddle did not look angry but continued to stare at her, in the most peculiar fashion. 

She looked up, her face shining in the dim candlelight, "I was just dreaming about you."

He nodded slowly, as his dark eyes took in the sidelines, looking at the sleek, ebony furniture and ornamental paintings and other luxuries adorning the bedchamber. "What a garish place for you to grow up in, Eileen."

Eileen just shrugged her shoulders relaxed, now sitting up on the bed. Holding his hand out, for her to take Riddle complimented, "I must say… you look simply gorgeous tonight."

Eileen grinned, while biting her lip trying to suppress the intense pleasure knowing Tom approved of her appearance. She thought how his satisfaction was better than the actual Elixir of Youth that made her that way in the first place. A second later, she rose and placed her hand in his, and it wasn't entirely cold, rather warm.

Riddle took his wand from his robes and performed on Eileen the invisibility spell. As it occurred, she experienced the compression and separation that happens congruently, but she took it in stride, recalling that Christmas Eve so long ago when he had used the same spell.

A moment later, he finished it on himself and pocketed his wand and then snatched up the now extinguished old-fashioned lamp.

Eileen walked forward with him to bar open the heavily padlocked door. She was unsure if they were still holding hands, and so could only hope. 

They set out passing the twisted balcony after crossing a wide corridor. Somewhere in the house, the lilt of a piano was playing the mournful song, "Moonlight Sonata". Marie Prince always played piano when frustrated with her only daughter. Eileen knew her frustration this time concerned her refusal to see the suitor she had arranged to meet earlier that evening. To Eileen there was nothing beautiful about the song, just resentment.

Almost as if Riddle had understood what she had just been thinking he said, "We'll have our own celebration tonight. We're going to have a lot of fun."

As Eileen continued with Riddle down the staircase and then going towards one of the back doors, she felt a shift in Tom's powerful presence. His voice had just been unnaturally high in pitch, as if he were happy. Yet the impression she got, just wasn't matching up with the way his presence normally was.

They crossed the threshold, of the last room that led to an entrance to outdoors. A clock finished it's chiming of the midnight hour. As soon as the door closed shut behind them, Riddle undid the invisibility spells with an eager swiftness and proceeded to re-light the lamp magically.

Eileen became startled, as he took her hand again. It was from the rush Riddle was in, to get to some uncalled for destination that made her frightened.

His voice rang false again as did his demeanor, despite the quick, excited passion, "You know, I've grown fond of snakes. But I no longer have the basilisk to exercise control over. Possession is really a holistic process of body, mind and spirit…"

As he spoke they headed to a cliff, where below was a gully. A murky pond eroded the bottom.

"Is that what we're going to do?," Eileen asked in a wavering voice, conveying her apprehensions.

Riddle's demeanor instantly hardened, "Yes. I told you I would utilize possession on you." He released the grip on her hand and pushed her back a few feet. Eileen suddenly felt very small inside and vulnerable on the cliff's edge. Something was terribly wrong.

She dared to shoot a glance at his face, and saw that his blue-gray eyes were positively blazing. Riddle's eyes had lost all their natural color. It was replaced with a dark void.

His fists clenched, and the knuckles cracked.

"Not a soul…Yes, not a single soul, will know that Lord Voldemort is the one who shall rid the world of you. And….your stupid pure-blood family isn't here to help."

Eileen shuddered at the words softly whispered, but in such a forced way. Tom was struggling to keep his pent-up anger down. Yet it's wrath was impending to breech the surface.

"Tom! Please, tell me what's wrong…I don't want there to be secrets between us anymore," Eileen half-whined and half-stubbornly voiced her sentiments.

She sensed that if she tried to keep herself under control, maybe she could stop his severe emotions from being unleashed.

Riddle knelt down, and centered in on her face. Speaking lucidly: "Ah…but there is no doubt that you thought you could keep secrets, Eileen."

Eileen opened her mouth to respond, but she stopped at his outburst, "I'm aware you witnessed Myrtle's death. Instead of keeping quiet, you accused the Heir of Slytherin to Dippit!…. I never expected you'd try to apprehend me, but I know that you went ahead and did just that! Thought of a clever loop-hole around the vows, didn't you?"

"No! That's not how it happened! I can swear to it."

He continued in a near crazed rush, "Right…well I don't give a d if you break your vows. The point is that Eileen Prince could never have the influence to expel me. When I saw the truth in Dippit's mind, I could also see his blind trust…When are you going to learn that yourself?"

Riddle had started prowling, and circling like he had caught his prey. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, as he was hesitating to go further, with what he was thinking to do.

"I have faith in you, my lord…But if I was really powerless to get you expelled why are you angry that I tried?," Eileen asked, genuinely confused.

"Well, that's an interesting question….You see, telling Dippit and then directly deceiving me about your acts later, demonstrates a shortage of loyalty, Eileen. I'm disappointed. I thought that Elixir would inculcate you into my most basic tenets, but apparently it did not."

There was a silence for several seconds as Riddle continued to appraise her. He had an ugly smirk. Behind him, the horizon was framed with a mass of clouds building up, ebbing the silvery rays of moonlight.

"I'll just have to kill...again. You were so much more likable as a shy imbecile!"

At these words, there sprang from his wand a bombardment of random hexes and jinxes from his long, yew wand.

Eileen saw Riddle momentarily distracted by the jets of light from the jinxes, and so tried to edge away from him. Riddle shot forward, towering over her and knocked her backwards.

"HAVING FUN?"

The young Voldemort began to laugh. He was somewhat losing control over his usually stable emotions, as he was in a strange, yet mild rage. 

"Having fun?," he now repeated in a whisper. He then held his wand to the base of her throat, like he did with Mary Riddle, but this time as an ominous threat.

His temperament sounding oddly hyper as he commenced, "You know, I'm the most powerful wizard of all time. I'm going to be known by the whole wizarding world as ineffable, as by title. Consider it a privilege that I actually want to dispose of you myself. Ready to be subjugated to death?"

Eileen reacted with a spontaneous scream, that was an instinctual response. 

Riddle was only incensed by the scream, even more aroused. So much, that he stepped, if possible even closer to where she lay, huddled on the ground in the fetal position. Riddle kicked her, towards the precipice, just a few inches from falling.

Eileen was on her back, staring unblinkingly at Tom Riddle in utter shock. 

A gloomy grayness in the distance shrouded the stars, blocking out the last of the feeble light.

Riddle was enveloped in a glacial fury, encompassing every inch of his insides. It concerned the fact that he could no longer believe that this was as easy a follower to handle as he had once thought.

A coldness swept over the vicinity. A subtle fluctuation, but distinct. 

The tip of that infamous wand, pointed between Eileen's eyes.

" Alone on the hard floor of the earth… I shall destroy that antiquated beauty… Eileen Prince, forgotten by her family…," was recited in a hollow voice, punctuated by harshness. 

A tidal wave of oppression consumed Eileen from these words. In one terrifying second, she succumbed how foolish she was to be taken in by everything since the beginning! And in just one more terrifying second, she would be finished by the blinding light of the killing curse. The truth of the night's tribulations, was being told to her in that predatory privation of a human-being, looming right beside her.

But her horrific feelings concerning the truth were pushed aside, as a malevolent smile, came upon her captive's face.

He was being reminded of something that hit him with a gleam of inspiration. It was the idea of overcoming his death, to start experimentation. It cleared sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle's cold anger and brought back to him the sense of anticipation he had held earlier.

Because Eileen was unnerved by this change, she jolted out of the terror that her life was over. 

Riddle's eyes, still evincing a dark void narrowed as he watched her again, and he sneered, when he saw her confidence that he would kill her was diminished. The minutes before had just been a fantasy. He would've liked to dispose of her, but there was still too many usurpations to take advantage of. He had known all throughout that it was just him setting his appetite for murder free, channeled by his anger that caused him to play with her.  
Eileen stood up, as her senses returned.

Riddle was moving down the eroded cliff. He didn't wait for Eileen to follow.

A few moments later, they were standing together, their two reflections dimly cast over the murky pond.

Eileen belligerently voiced her opinion, "I can't believe you'd kill that girl for revenge…Because I know you'll kill for revenge, I really thought I wouldn't survive to see the next day."

It was anger that made her remember this detail and caused her to finally communicate what she thought. Eileen had forgotten that he would possess her body, all thought of it driven out of her mind by the threat against her life.

Riddle's eyebrows scrunched, and he swallowed hard, feeling the anger that was still coursing through him. His eyes flashed, feeling very surprised that Eileen had retaliated against him and admitted what he already knew she thought about seeing Myrtle die.

Gazing dully into the water, he turned around abruptly as Eileen continued, "Well…" She stalled becoming nervous again, realizing how unwise it had been to blurt out what she had just said. Still, she bravely looked in his eyes. "I had to do something for my own mind's sake, after all I saw her die!"

Bitterly young Voldemort rallied almost immediately, crafting the argument to suit his ends, "You're going to join my mind in the act of possession…So, forget your pitiful guilt and worries…"

He paused and then added sarcastically, "I don't murder for revenge, I suppose I find killing easy as I've been practicing."

Voldemort then reminisced only to himself about the murders he had just committed that night, and silently recalled the two pieces of jewelry he had taken.

The build-up of clouds was now covering the whole sky and there was a strong scent of forthcoming rain.

Riddle rummaged through the pocket of the inside of his black robes and pulled out the glittering green and silver chain that was Mary Riddle's.

"First, I have a gift for you, Eileen…."

He took a step closer and placed the large necklace over her head, where it rested on her chest, draped over her heart.

Eileen beamed and blushed with absolute happiness. She believed that Tom truly thought of her now as special, even if he had what Eileen considered to be violent tendencies.

Riddle felt no such desire to make her special. Rather it was a convenient way to project the stain of his crimes onto her. This was to absolve his stress over being a half-blood, having a muggle father who didn't want him, the dilapidated Gaunt house, etc. She could wear the stains and nothing more. Nor was there any reason to curse the necklace, for it was already worthless to him and now symbolically, so was Eileen Prince. 

"If only she knew…what she's wearing right now came from one of my victims," Riddle thought, considering it all a game, his own little secret.

He would wear the distinguished Peverell Coat of Arms ring later. To Riddle, it was a wonderful reminder of how he killed the father he hated and Tom Riddle's Senior's family. The ring would also serve as a statement that the true heir; Lord Voldemort now had the ring in his possession. 

"Isn't it magnificent? The stones are opals." Riddle said kindly.

"Thank-you, My Lord. It's beautiful. I'll wear it all the time….Where did you get it?" she added in wonder, fingering each of the opals. The opals glittered green like a dark mark, luminescent in the heavy darkness surrounding them.

Riddle remained inscrutable, as he answered calmly, "It's not necessary how I obtained it. Just enjoy it…. I was dubious about killing you, but understand that I know people who can make others disappear… do you know what I mean?"

Eileen stopped touching the opal necklace and shook her head in answer.

"I'm giving fair warning to stop this recalcitrance to my orders…. I can find ways to disparage your entire life, including your family. But this is completely futile to help you, Eileen because you're not going to remember anything in the morning."

Eileen reacted in horror and was very frightened by those last words. The way he had said she wouldn't remember anything with odd cheerfulness, made it sound daunting. It had already been daunting enough to know that they were going to play around with possession on top of everything else.

"I'm not letting you off easy considering all your violations of my laws. Frankly, I'm telling you there is no need to hand out the perfunctory cruciatus curse. Possession. Possession can be quite painful for the host," Riddle spoke deprecatingly, thinking this was really just to serve him and an experiment for his goal of immortality.

Drops of rain began to spatter the landscape around them, stirring up the pond and landing on them as well. But Eileen hardly felt them, too frightened by the prospect of possession, her stomach twisting into a tight knot.

Riddle started to provocatively stare at her in all the wrong places and that was what made Eileen shudder.

Then he started to lean closer as he whispered in her ear, with a tenderness that was in actuality false, "I want you to go as far as you can, don't stop, darling."

Riddle said these words because he knew the magical act of possession is excruciatingly difficult for the host's first time when a spirit enters and that it will shorten the host's life, just from one time by several months. Yet Voldemort was determined to make it work.

He continued whispering, "I think I've pursuaded or solicited. You want to do it, don't you Eileen?"

Eileen was breathing hard from anticipation, but she managed to say, "Yes."

Meanwhile, Riddle had his wand out, lowered at his waist, holding it. First he just made himself invisible. Then concentrated on a song-like incantation that would make his spirit leave his own body. He said the spells aloud because he was still a novice at possession, and he wanted to be sure he would succeed for it would satisfy Voldemort and increase his sense of superiority and worthiness.

Once he finally left his own, young body he felt a tremendous freedom and in a matter of seconds he was possessing Eileen.

She felt a great whoosh of something come inside every inch of her, and the power it had over her was so overwhelming, it was inundating.

Voldemort felt his way inside, eagerly exploring this novel experience. It seemed to Eileen that his spirit was everywhere. Not just within, but outside her too.

Riddle felt a surge of menacing anger. The fact that this soul was untarnished and whole was revolting. He quickly dismissed it, as it hardly mattered. He did not pause to ponder the purity of Eileen's soul in comparison to his recently ripped one.

He was going to gain more control now. Starting with a chant, a rhapsodizing inside his own mind. Eileen could hear it as well because they had a mental link from possession. It was an eerie enchantment with a vibrating rhythm that lasted several moments.

As the powerful spells progressed, Eileen felt an awful grip on all of her vital organs. Something had an insurmountable grasp over her heart, and her brain. It was quickly spreading until it was constraining not just her body, but her spirit.

Riddle was metaphorically cutting up Eileen's spirit, dissecting it, if you will. He wanted to see how everything worked in possession. As he explored deeper, Eileen began to sway. The host's skin was growing sallow, and sickly.

The strain was only more physically demanding when she felt the spirit use her mouth, "Use your wand…"

Eileen did not feel at all like herself, but she moved rigidly and robot-like, fumbling through her robes. At least, the parasitic soul was being patient.

Once she had her wand in her shaking hand, it immediately spoke through her own vocal cords again, "Rip some skin open. Shed like a snake, my pet."

Eileen almost gained awareness at the riveting order to shed skin. But as she felt the awesome power of the soul inhabiting her body, she couldn't resist doing what Tom Riddle's soul was asking.

She concentrated with all her might, on a spell that would rip her skin open. She didn't know any, but because of the desire to obey so badly, Eileen instinctively utilized a spell.

Then there was relief, as abrasions appeared on both arms,from aiming with the wand at each arm. A vague awareness of blood spurting on the skin. It alleviated the intense experience of possession to be complying with this foreign soul that was engrossing her existence. Finally remembering, it was Tom Riddle now inside her, she felt her own self-esteem increase because she identified with his authority.

Riddle continued to inhabit her insides, consuming every inch of them. Eileen already weakened, felt her soul splitting from her psyche. The spirit inside her was rapidly running through every one of her thoughts, emotions, sensations and memories.

Yet it disturbed her greatly. She felt no connection to any of the events playing in her mind, instead there was dissociation. Everything was being colasced with Lord Voldemort's soul sharing her body. But it seemed like he was dominating her completely. For everything she knew about herself, she could not understand in these moments.

Riddle was doing this, principally as a source of gratification. He was thinking of his belief that he was entitled to possess her. Eileen Prince was just a thing in his mind, a thing that he owned. As he continued to feel this, the fantasy over took into reality.

He had a wild urge to probe further into this soul, he wanted to push her to breaking point. Voldemort forced himself to depart, and Eileen felt the change immediately. Freezing from the encounter, shivering like it was winter, not summer. But then shock overtook her as in a matter of seconds, the spirit forced itself back inside.

Riddle continued this process, enjoying it immensely. It was pleasurable because of the control harnassed over this thing he owned. He felt more joy as there was a difference in the body. It seemed that the constant leaving and returning of his spirit was slowly killing her.

Riddle felt a manic happiness, his own feelings of unworthiness that drove him to possess her body being assuaged. "I am the master of life and death," he thought, as he was in an elevated mood. Eileen continued to deteriorate, her head becoming cloudy and a wooziness like she would fall asleep and never wake up. 

Finally, the limp, slim frame of Eileen Prince collapsed, exhausted. Riddle withdrew from her, his fun time of teetering on the edge of life and death over. He went into the invisible body that was his, where it was still standing.

Making himself visible, he then knelt in front of Eileen, his puppet, his dark eyes glowing from satisfaction.

The young Voldemort was still desensitized in his regard for Eileen Prince's plight from the result of possession. Riddle felt no attachment to her whatsoever, even if he'd just possessed her body and felt her soul.

Instead, he took a taste of her blood off her arms. He savored her rich, pure-blood forgetting for once that he, Tom Riddle was half-blood.

For a long time, possibly an whole hour, Riddle wavered over Eileen's unconscious body. He doted over the physical beauty she had become, seething with rage that it wasn't prudent for his ends to destroy it, but at least he could dominate it some more.

Not until it was nearly daybreak, did Tom Riddle perform the complex charm to modify her memory of the night's events. She would not even remember that he had threatened to kill her earlier. She was not going to be able to recall any of it, just a web of confusion. The new memory he placed inside simply resembled something any old girl would daydream about doing with her boyfriend on a moonlit evening, alone together.

Riddle felt his own fatigue and weariness, but pressed on. He took a piece of garbage, that was streaming down from the murky pond, and muttered, "portus." The garbage, which was a crumpled shopping bag glowed blue and shook, becoming activated.

Next, slipping it into the palm of Eileen's hand, he watched her disappear. He projected the portkey to have her reappear in her bedroom, on top of the bed. Undoubtedly, Eileen would be confused and Riddle wanted her family to not believe her.

It wasraining. Hard, thick raindrops were pounding the ground and there were puddles everywhere.  
Nearly daybreak now, a pale golden tinge obstructing the glow in the wee hours of the morning. Riddle, feeling much better than usual, set his mind determinedly on his final destination: a street in London just a couple of blocks from the orphanage. Within a few seconds sixteen-year-old Voldemort disapparated.

He would walk the few blocks to his orphanage, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps casually buy the muggle newspaper, he read regularly to keep up on the muggle world, even if he thought them inferior. He liked keeping up on the current events of World War II and Hitler's schemes going into operation. But first, he would go straight to his bedroom, and let himself have a restful, peaceful sleep, despite killing three people and abusing one just several hours ago.

Images swam into view as Eileen Prince awakened, becoming conscious several hours later. Her eyelids opened from late morning light streaming through. She rolled over and heard a crinkling sound of something brushing against her waist that wasn't bedcovers. It was a shopping bag.

The shopping bag brought back more images, but also a torn sensation. She did not know if she was to be happy or frightened. Despite the wondrous images of Tom and Eileen strolling the property of Stonewall Estate on a placid, calm night. Or the moment he presented her the opal necklace and kissed her, it did not match up.

The necklace! Eileen's hands flew to her throat, writhing around on top of the bed.

"TOM! TOM! I can't breathe…where are you? I don't feel well…," she yelled. It seemed like her confusion, was going to make her drown.

Eileen still holding the glittering green opal necklace, began to pant as she looked down. Her beautiful gold dressrobes were torn, and there were small cuts on her arms.

"What's going on?! What happened to me?!"

The memory of their outing together last night, just wasn't matching up with these horrible feelings inside her.

It was like she was hung-over from drinking too much. She felt tired, and there seemed to be some kind of web, no a wall in her head that prevented knowing everything about last night. But there was no time to contemplate it now. She was much too fatigued.

Not feeling the least bit peaceful, she continued to clutch the necklace. She was so sore, every inch inside, yet it was baffling as to why that could be. Tom bought me this opal necklace and that is why there is a shopping bag in my hand, Eileen reasoned. They had talked for a while and finally had fallen asleep together and he had told her good night.

Eileen listened to rain battering the rooftop above and suddenly there were voices mixing with it. Eileen's mother and father, Marie and Graham Prince were banging on the door. Finally they found a way around the charms Eileen had placed on the locks.

Her mother came first, still in a high-collared fur cloak, despite the hot July weather. The husband behind, in his green healer robes with the St. Mungo's insignia of a wand crossed with a bone.

"What's wrong?! What is the matter?," her mother screamed. The lines on her forehead creasing even more, showed she was frightened.

Her father's jaw set, and his eyes looked more alert than ever. Graham was getting the horrible idea that Eileen was like some of his patients in the spell damage ward.

"What is the matter, Eileen? You look fine," Graham lied, as Eileen looked terrible.

"It's…It's this necklace," she murmered lamely.

"There can't be anything wrong with it. You own plenty of jewelry," the mother scoffed. But Eileen's father, gently picked up the necklace, examining it.

Her mother questioned further, "I distinctly heard the name Tom, Eileen. The suitor I wanted you to meet last night is Clarence Malfoy."

Setting the necklace beside Eileen, he looked his daughter in the eye as he asked, "But who is Tom?"

"Just somebody, I know…that I was dreaming about," she murmured casually. She was loyal to Riddle and there was no way she was going to tell her family about him. Yet she couldn't believe how normally she was speaking, despite everything that had happened.

Her father looked relieved to see her speaking in normally constructed sentences. For a second, Graham had been reminded of the people's whose minds had been addled at St. Mungo's.

Her mother scrutinized her apperance, with a prim look, "Wash up, Eileen! I don't need my one and only pure-blood daughter looking like garbage."

Eileen just frowned. She was very used to her mother's remarks and knew her mother said these things in a mean way, to get het to do things. Marie Prince scurried out of the room, as Graham Prince followed.

Eileen took her wand out, and aimed it at the door to lock and close it. It was a simple spell to slam a door shut, yet it just wasn't working. Not until the fourth try, did the door slowly shut from the force of her spell.

She began to cry, hot tears falling onto her, and sliding down near that necklace. She bit her lip, worrying why magic had suddenly become so difficult. Throwing the blue-grey bedcovers over her head, she fell asleep, still crying and part of her dwelling on thoughts of Tom Riddle.


	19. A Deathly Encounter

Tom Riddle and the Pure-Blood Prince

Part Two 

Inexplicable terror passed over Eileen as her parents coaxed her onto the train at platform nine and three quarters. She looked over her shoulder, spotting in the distance, the distinctive presence of Tom Riddle.

Riddle had attracted a small entourage of students. He was standing in the middle, quite at ease.

"Who are you gawking at Eileen?," her mother, Marie demanded.

"Who says I was gawking at anyone mother?," Eileen snapped back, giving her mother, a final repulsed look.

She turned on her family and went to sit in the nearest compartment. The train would be leaving at eleven o'clock, which was about a minute from now.

"Er...keep up the good work in your N.E.W.T.s," her father, Graham said sheepishly.

"I will...," answered Eileen, not unpleasantly, standing in front of the window in her compartment.

She peered down at her little brother, Francis and smiled. His round face was taking in the whirlwind of activity, with innocent wonder, and perhaps longing for his time to go to Hogwarts, which was five years in the future.

The Hogwarts Express started to move and gather momentum, and Eileen waved farewell without much enthusiasm. At least she wouldn't have to see her mother's pig-headed obstinate expression until Christmas break.

She plopped down and stared at the metropolis of London, which soon slipped into the English countryside.

Inside her mind, she stewed over how alone she thought she was. But then the hope of Dark order meetings and the probability of the onyx stone becoming activated, with the chance to do more with Riddle's gang cheered her up.

She jumped out of her reverie, recalling prefect duties at noon.

Eileen arrived at the last compartment, at the back of the train. About two dozen other fifth, sixth, and seventh year prefects were heading in the same direction, as they were all prefects.

A girl of sixteen, wearing quite a serious expression for such a youthful face was standing in the foray. Her red mouth was pursed, and her reddened cheeks were tight. Her eyes gleamed behind chic green spectacles, and she wore her hair ina French knot.

"Good afternoon, prefects. I'm Minerva Mcgonagall, as most of you know. I've been made Head Girl," she articulated crisply. "and the Head Boy, also a Gryffindor, is Jason Mitchells," she beckoned to a boy on her right, seemingly content to allow the Head Girl to take the initiative.

"Could you please pass out to each prefect a copy of the Objectives List?," Minerva asked him.

Mitchells did not hesitate, but started to go around to the prefects, whom were all congregated in small groups.

The prefects were surprised that they were getting written as well as verbal instructions.

Riddle was flanked by two of his followers, Wilkes and Rookwood (the former a Hufflepuff prefect and the late a Ravenclaw prefect). Tom eyed Minerva testily, until he closed his hand on the paper and began to read.

Eileen was on the other side of the compartment, staring curiously at her beloved gang leader, but also harboring confusing trepidation.

Jason and Minerva waited patiently for the prefects to cover the information. "Does anyone have any questions in regards to the Objectives List of this term?"

There was a pause, in which Riddle continued to mildly appraise the Head Boy and Head Girl, and then his hand shot up. "I do..."

Minerva and Jason turned as if one, to look straight at Tom Riddle. The rest of the students followed their example, all eyes fixed on Tom.

"It seems this policy, you've no doubt drafted yourself Mcgonagall...are in short an outdated response to last year's scares and the legend of the chamber coming true. For instance, assisting First years to their classes for the first week, may I ask if that is necessary?"

The followers beside him gaped at him in awe as if they hero worshiped him. They could not believe that he dare allude to those events, that he was secretly responsible for. Eileen scrunched her now thin and arched brows, thinking Tom had a fair point.

Minerva noticed their behavior, and let out a huff expelling her irritation. In a voice of deadly calm she explained, "I cannot pretend the idea didn't come from those events...Yet the Chamber incident revealed weaknesses in the prefect system in some respect. The objectives are simply some new traditions to make the start of the school-year easier for the benefit of all...for everyone to get acclimated."

Riddle dark eyes narrowed and he condescendingly retorted, "Or perhaps a method to fully establish your grasp of power and influence as Head Girl, Minerva. You thought you could use the prefects to exemplify that, right?"

"No, it is not! We...This is the Heads and Prefects working as a team, Riddle. I'm sorry for your own lack of wisdom in understanding the way things are run at Hogwarts."

"Yes...she is already thinking how above she is compared to us," Riddle said mildly as if to himself, but really reveling in how everyone was listening.

Riddle had formulated the confrontation mainly as a way to pit the prefects against this powerful Head Girl and probably Jason Mitchells as well. It was also a protective measure, for Riddle's own influence, which would remain absolutely contained. Riddle knew, the appearance wrongly shows that he has other's best interests at heart.

Eileen nodded to Riddle's words, but she was looking at Mcgonagall somewhat fascinated by her ability to stand up to the likes of Tom. She had to admit, she admired this Gryffindor at least a little bit.

The Head Boy, Jason Mitchells announce in a gay voice, as he wanted to avoid the argument going too far, "Take turns patrolling the corridor! We'll see you soon."

The couple of dozen prefects left in a hurry, Riddle and his followers the last to go. It wasn't untrue that some of the prefects were now going to be guarded and suspicious of Minerva because of what Tom had said.

A golden orange of a moon was rising over the outskirts of Hogsmeade village as students disembarked from the nine hour journey aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Ogg, the Gamekeep could be head in the crowd, "First years...down the path to the boats. Come on, don't be shy!"

Hagrid trailed in Ogg's shadow, languidly following the Gamekeeper. Eileen managed a passing glance at fourteen-year-old Rubeus Hagrid. His tan face was determined, but also muddled from grieving over the recent loss of his father last summer.

Somebody was rubbing her shoulders, then an arm wrapped around them. She thought she had an idea on whom it was.

Eileen peered up into the dark eyes of Tom Riddle. Something about those eyes, made her shiver like never before and her stomach lurched.

Using Legilimency, over the most recent thoughts, including the fleeting glimpse of Hagrid's reaction to his fate, Riddle smiled widely with a mirthless laugh. He shared with himself a private joke about Rubeus's new life, from his expulsion last June.

"Riddle!," a loud rather harshly deep voice spoke through the night air.

Eileen felt herself being guided by Tom to the carriages outlined in the velvety darkness.

Meanwhile, pounding footsteps of two people caught up with them, one breathing in heavy huffs. It was Rabasatan Lestrange, and Mulciber, two of Riddle's many followers.

Eileen frowned deeply at the sight of Mulciber, with his brutal visage. She absolutely loathed the boy and naturally so. This future Death Eater was the one who had wanted to use "Avada Kedavra" on her for sport in the Forbidden Forrest at her entrance into the order last January.

Nearing one of the coaches, Eileen let out a hastily stifled gasp, and feigned a coughing fit. Luckily, nobody paid her any mind.

Riddle was having a supposedly casual conversation with Lestrange.

"When does the first of you-know-what start?"

Riddle gave a significant look, "Soon enough, Lestrange...I'm delighted your so eager to provocate, but you know the cliche patient is a virtue. I, for one,... happen to have that virtue."

Riddle adored the fact that he had such license to milk his over-arching ego whenever he wished, when in the company of his servants.

Eileen continued to tense, as they finally got to a vacant carriage. Her clammy hand, reached to her mouth still surprised.

Riddle looked at her fully in the face, his curiosity mildly aroused from the tension he had sensed a moment ago.

Eileen's brown eyes darted from the whites of the pupils of those things in front of them, back to Riddle dark ones.

His eyes narrowed and there was an omniscient wisdom that told Eileen he could see them as well.

"Y-you see it?"

He only nodded, from the sidelines of Eileen's point of view and opened the door of the stagecoach, letting Eileen enter.

Afterward, Rabastan Lestrange and Mulciber followed Riddle in.

Eileen continued to stare at the horrible creatures, now visible in the opening between the bench parallel from where she was seated beside Riddle. Simply mesmerized, by their limply folded leathery wings of a scaly and ribbed frame and the fact that it looked like they were all skin and bone.

Rabastan and Mulciber were consumed over an argument about some ridiculous detail in the interrelated dynasties of the pure-blood families.

Riddle was nonchalantly gazing over their heads at the thestrals, consumed in his own thoughts. But after a moment, he looked at Eileen thinking of some secret passion.

She was slightly nauseated by the grisly sight of them as the line of carriages made jingling noises and they rode towards the castle. Eileen wished she could become calmer. In one hand, she held the glittering green opal necklace around her neck, worn everyday since that night in July. It was like a pacifier to assuage her fears.

Mulciber and Lestrange had quieted down from their prior argument. Mulciber happened to give Eileen a thought, as he loudly commented, "You look miserable...Prince." it was not meant to be compassionate, it was delivered rudely.

Tom Riddle did not have the same level of faith that Eileen would be loyal to serving him as he had in the beginning. Therefore, he was going to continue with the rigorous Legilimency since last year, after discovering Eileen had the gall to accuse him.

Riddle saw all her terrors of over the sight of those creatures, totally foreign and unknown to Eileen.

"I hope we can all see them one day," he almost dreamily dictated.

Eileen sharply looked up, back at the thestrals and then turned abruptly to Tom, cricking her neck.

The deathly creatures reflected back in Tom's. He was aroused by the sight of them, because of what they represented.

In an outspoken burst she countered, "You mean not everyone can see them? What are they anyway?"

Riddle fixed his eyes slowly on Eileen's pale face in the glowing interior. His eyes were as dark as if no light could ever penetrate.

"Thestrals...you'll only see if you've seen death. Obviously you have Eileen...I wonder who that could be," he offered the last sarcastically. A smile twitched reminiscently.

Mulciber and Lestrange had their full attention on Riddle. Yet they weren't hanging on every word like they normally would. They both had identically dirty looks.

"Now the white in their eyes. That indicates the loss of power. A tremendous loss of magical power, one you witness when you kill...or see someone die," he hastily added.

Mulciber sniggered, "Stop telling Prince ghost stories! This isn't Halloween, my Lord."

Lestrange laughed and smirked sceptically at what he thought was a joke on Eileen Prince.

"Yeah, there isn't anything there... except Hogwarts," Lestange surly intervened, glaring at Eileen.

Riddle had been exaggerating about the whites of thestrals eyes'. But nevertheless he went onward, "Speaking of ghosts...they're an imprint left on this earth...Why? Because they feared death Eileen. Death...such a macabre activity...One can evade, yet few can accomplish."

Eileen gulped. There was a transparent redness in Riddle's eyes for a moment. She discounted it. After all, she was totally allowing her imagination to run away with herself.

Riddle sat back more relaxed. He gained pleasant comfort in his own most secret fear of death in frightening others about it.

As the coaches came to a halt in front of the school gates, images swam forward. Eileen became paralyzed in the reality of death, the inescapable end that awaited everyone. Images of skulls, gravestones, and even faceless corpses flooded her consciousness. Stricken with fear, Eileen couldn't wait to get away from the thestrals.

The four of them stepped out. At the end of the winged boars lining the pathway was stone steps leading to the gigantic oak doors.

Lestrange and Mulciber disappeared into the enormous crowd converging from all the arriving carriages. Students, gaily full of their youthful energy spring up the stone steps and into the castle.

Riddle had taken only a few brisk steps, when Eileen determined he wouldn't disappear tugged on his elbow. "Tom!...slow down. Can I ask you something?"

Riddle slyly answered, "Yes, considering you just did."

Eileen couldn't help but turn icily direct, "Where did this opal necklace come from?"

Riddle surreptitiously eyed the glittering green stones, forming an arc at her heart.

"It's for you, Eileen. I bought...That's all there is to say."

He started ascending the stone steps, Eileen anxiously followed.

"I want your explanation of what happened over the summer. For weeks my magic suffered. I felt ill...it started right after the night I saw you...D-d did you curse me?"

Riddle shrugged his shoulders and stopped. He turned to her, his expression horrified. "No, I would never curse you. That's nonsense."

Her body began to shake, fully aware she was challenging him "There were cuts on my arms, Tom. How did that get there?"

Riddle sighed. Maybe he should have been even more precise with his cover-ups of the truth. "Eileen...if there is one weakness you have it's fastidiousness to trite detail. There were rose bushes, which explains any cuts. Don't you remember?"

He peered into her intently. Eileen mind felt a whirlwind of memories zoom through her skull. Then it felt like they were being pulled out, it was so strong. The image of the two of them, reposed in a rosebush playing around made her feel giddy.

But in reality, Riddle was examining the work he had done on the pulvarization of the true memory and the replacement with the false ones.

"Eileen...I just examined it. We had a good time. Now, the Sorting begins soon. I don't have to elucidate further because you remember it, correct?" He sounded totally unperturbed by Eileen's suspicions, confident she would believe him.

Eileen nodded and was hit by a burst of warm air. They were in the castle and the flame torches, against the high walls of the Entrance Hall were above them, as they crossed it.

It took just a few moments for Tom and Eileen with a few other students to cross the flagged stone floor to the right.

The veered off onto the left side of the Great Hall, as soon they passed the open doors. Instead of the magical sky, being sprinkled with stars, it was a black mound, clouds filling the magical sky, reflecting the real one outside.

Tom did not say anything else to Eileen, as she thought he would. He continued right next to her as Eileen narrowly avoided the silvery ghost of the Bloody Baron passing through her body, inadvertently leaning closer to Tom.

Riddle chose a spot in the very back, where several boy from his secret cult were waiting. Some were in actuality, supposed to be closer to the front being below fifth year.

Eileen took a few paces forward, until she found one of the last available seats between the two girls she shared the dormitory with every year. Eileen was very used to being ignored by them and their stand-offish behavior. Rather, Eileen glanced at the Staff table, glad to see all the same teachers.

But the two girls were eyeing Eileen. Eileen hadn't even noticed they had made room for her specially. Somewhat, boredly now tracing the line of candles streaming down the Slytherin table from above, she was totally aloof to the attention.

Until one of them nudged her ribs, "You've changed Eileen. You look much better than last year."

Eileen turned her attention on the girl and issued something between a smile and a frown and as a nervous habit she began touching her necklace.

The other laughed and said in an overly friendly voice, "You actually cut your hair, Eileen. A short mop totally improves you. Boys are gonna think you're a knock-out."

It was true. Over the summer, Eileen had cut her jet-black hair from all the way down her back to just above her shoulders, as well as altering it with a side part. It was a much more fashionable trend of the nineteen forties, but Eileen had done it because for some reason she thought she had a new identity.

"Well...I don't think I looked half as bad as you think I did. It's only apparent now because you look over everyone where there's start of term," Eileen waspishly whispered.

Professor Dumbledore, in a pointed hat of bright stars seemed to light up the room as he sedately sauntered down the center aisle. Nearly everybody watched, craning their necks to get a look at the scared first year pupils.

Several seconds later, Dumbledore placed a worn, patched hat on a four-legged stool, situated on the platform.

The hat began to sing a song, describing what each of the four Founders prized in the students.

Eileen and the two girls were not listening. Eileen's line of vision drifted down the table, scoping out her one true friend, who would be a fifth year.

But the two girl she shared her dormitory with were not done. Throughout the song they kept beguiling Eileen on why she had walked in with of all people, one of the most popular and handsomest boys in school.

On the third try, Stephanie whispered, "Are you really friends with Tom Riddle?"

Eileen had equivocated because she could not make up her mind on whether it was prudent to divulge. Finally she couldn't resist the juicy news. Telling them would be an advantage socially, something that might dramatically heighten her status in Slytherin.

"Well...try to keep it under wraps, but Tom is my boyfriend. Sort of...," she quivered.

The other girl, Kelly began to giggle, under her breath. But Stephanie's eyes flashed, impatiently interested, "How long have you been dating?"

"Er...dating?...Several months, I guess," Eileen faltered. She knew it wasn't really dating at all. But how was she going to talk about the dangerous complications to her relationship with...Lord Voldemort? She was too terrified and besides they would never understand.

Stephanie gave a furious glance, shaking her head, telling Eileen she was annoyed her roommate had kept it from her all those months.

But the conversation was forced to end as Professor Dumbledore called from the list he was reading, "Adders, Michael!"

The sorting ceremony was underway and nobody was whispering anymore. Eileen's mind was doing mental leaps. She wasn't sure it was wise to even tell her roommates how intimate she was with Tom.

A boy emerged from the thirty or so young witches and wizards. He jammed the hat on his head and seconds later it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Michael Adder's face flushed and he made his way to the cheering table.

The next was a boy called, "Black, Alphard!"

There was barely a pause, and then, "SLYTHERIN!"

The whole house went berserk. The cheering was even more incessant than Gryffindor's. Slytherin's stomped their feet, in joy of their first new member.

After a moment or two, "Bulstrode, Augusta!" was put in Gryffindor. The hat had taken nearly a whole minute to decide with her though, as she nearly made Slytherin.

Some other First years included in the sorting of Eileen and Tom's Sixth year included Bridget Cornfoot (Ravenclaw), Ambrosius Flume (Hufflepuff), Ciceron Harkiss (Ravenclaw), Timothy Johson (Hufflepuff), Sylvia Macdougal (Hufflepuff), Hierome Longbottom (Gryffindor). Lastly was Mary Yardley who would become an anomaly in Slytherin, a pig-tailed muggle-born girl.

The Headmaster, Armando Dippet rose and greeted with bubbly enthusiasm, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry...may be an enchantingly successful year for each of you!"


	20. Power of Obsessive Love

The next morning the sun streamed in from the high windows as students in the Great Hall lingered over the four tables, finishing with breakfast.

Professor Slughorn jostled through the crowds, until arriving near the back of the Slytherin table.

In his hands was a mass of parchment concerning the N.E.W.T.s the Sixth years qualified for and the scheduled times to attend them.

Eileen was not watching her Head of House approaching, but was staring at a worn piece of parchment. It was the marks she had received for her O.W.L.s in July:

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVELS

EILEEN PRINCE HAS RECEIVED:

ANCIENT RUNES……………………………………………………O  
ARITHMANCY…………………………………………………………P  
ASTRONOMY…………………………………………………………O  
CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES…………………………………O  
CHARMS………………………………………………………………O  
DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS……………………………O  
HERBOLOGY…………………………………………………………E  
HISTORY OF MAGIC…………………………………………………O  
POTIONS………………………………………………………………O  
TRANSFIGURATION…………………………………………………E

Wallowing internally over the mistakes she recalled making, she thought 'Defense Against the Dark Arts…was suprising. I thought I made at least one huge error….Care of Magical Creatures….Ogg's test was too easy, so it wasn't talent. I failed Arithmancy, so that's one less class. But who cares? It's my mother's alley, not mine. I always abhorred it.'

Reviewing the grade of 'Exceeds Expectations' in both Herbology and Transfiguration, Eileen continued the vituperative railing, What if those teachers, only take those who get 'Outstanding'? 

"Eileen…Eileen Prince…Let's see," Slughorn had reached her name. "Nine OWLs! Good gracious. Your schedule is for six classes, all taught at N.E.W.T. level."

Eileen took the piece of yellowed parchment the size of an index card from across the table and smiled at the fact that she would still get to learn Transfiguration and Herbology.

Next to Slughorn, was Tom Riddle not far off from where Eileen was, but on the other side of the table.

"Tom…Twelve O.W.L.s. Top marks in everything. Astounding academic achievement, my boy!," Slughorn thundered, getting the notice of some of the surrounding students.

Riddle took it with a smug smile, but all the same, heat was climbing up his pale face. He really wasn't too pleased with himself, even though he was now enrolled in all seven classes, but he made sure to convey the aura that he was.

Slughorn leant closer to Tom, whispering in his ear an admonishment, "You won't be needing a time-turner anymore…just seven classes now….It'll be much more intensive, mind you."

Riddle nodded and dutifully assented, "I'll be sure to shoulder that responsibility, sir."

Slughorn finally left the group of older students. Riddle got up to make a short trip to the Common Room. Shortly afterward, would be his first class of term this Thursday morning. N.E.W.T. Arithmancy, the one class Eileen is not enrolled in.

An hour and a quarter later, Riddle was finished with a thoroughly stimulating Arithmancy class.

Temporarily absent-minded, in deep thought over theoretical concepts of magical numerology, Riddle was planning on going to the library.

He was thinking on the lesson he'd just had, which was about how to break a curse. His brilliant, yet twisted mind saw how being aware the way curses can be broken, would pave the way to create stronger curses on objects, including the future horcruxes.

But as he neared the library corridor an unpleasant reminder surfaced.

Tom had agreed he would assist the First years from their History of Magic lesson to their next class. Evidently, Minerva's 'Objectives List' was to be taken seriously despite Riddle's qualms voiced on the train yesterday.

Riddle had tabulated the best times for himself, with the other Prefects last night. He would only have to do it twice a day for one week, but it was still a hindrance.

Retracing his steps, and then proceeding to the first floor, he thought it a loss to be wasting his time. Instead of accumulating knowledge during his new free period, he had to use it for the sake of annoying dunderheads, as that was what he referred to them as.

Professor Binns sailed out through the wall, just as Riddle arrived. Then out came all the First years, rushing beyond the classroom door.

Only some of the crowd of young First years, noticed the elder boy with the Prefect badge. Most of them, were still talking, their conversation droning on like a bees buzzing.

"The seventh floor to Defense Against the Dark Arts!..Get in a line," Tom Riddle commanded.

Riddle tasted the air with his own power radiating from the announcement. Most of the First years were shocked into submission.

Except for one of the smallest and shortest of them. Riddle saw this very curly black-haired figure maneuveur to the head, despite being from the back.

Riddle followed them on the sidelines, as he directed them up the Main stairs.

Throughout the journey, he gave the line a few more of his commands until he said, "We're taking a short-cut. Behind the tapestry, turn left…there's a ramp to get from the fourth to the seventh floor."

Riddle quickly got to the tapestry and held it open for the First years to pass under. This would make things faster and the sooner he could go to the library to study curses and curse-breaking.

But behind the tapestry issued several high-pitched screams. Riddle darted to the other side of the tapestry, and then the last few followed.

"It's a ghost!," Augusta Bulstrode cried out, backing into a corner.

It was the rambunctious poltergeist, Peeves. Floating right in front of their faces in his flamboyant clothing and carrying a bell. He began to ring it, making an insipid clanging.

"Ickle bitty firsties…Rise and shine!"

Most of the First years backed further into the wall, only a few brave enough to pass the deviant spirit.

"That is not quite a ghost. It's the school poltergeist," Riddle informed them.

Yet most of the First years ignored the Prefect, huddled in a small group whimpering. 

"I'll summon the Barron, Peeves!…"

Shortly after that, Riddle pulled his wand out, as the threat of the Bloody Baron apparently wasn't working.

Peeves lolled at a very fast pace, ""Oh, most think he's silly, the Tommy boy Prefect, but some are so stupored they think he's just mad. But Peevesy knows better and says that he's bad-"

But whatever Peeves was going to say or do next was cut short.

Riddle jabbed his wand in the Poltergeist's direction, and by the next second, Peeves was charmed stuck to the wall, but now howling like a maniac.

Completely careless to Peeve's prior insults, he pressed, "Get a move on. Back in line, unless you want to be late your first day."

They quickly complied, now in awe at this Prefect and the alacrity with whcih magic was used. For many, it was the first time they had ever seen someone wave a wand.

One of the girls named Bridget Cornfoot (a Ravenclaw), was very sensitive. Her face started to screw up, like she was about to shed tears. Bridget had thought it somewhat cruel what this boy had done to Peeves.

Another girl, Sylvia Macdougal (a Hufflepuff) noticed Bridget's discomfort. Sylvia started to wonder what it could be when she remembered what the Headmaster had said last night. She piped up, "I thought the rule is magic isn't allowed except in class?"

Riddle responded, "Rules aren't set in stone here. You'll soon see everyone does magic outside class, or at least everyone whose got nerve." Tom said this charmingly and referred to people who've got nerve as an appeal to their fears to take risks.

Something Peeves had said clunked into place for the curly-haired boy at the head of the line. Being a pure-blood, he had already heard from cousins about someone at school who was the leader of a gang that his cousins were in. They said, they were under an Unbreakable Vow and couldn't divulge much information, lest they would die. But this First year, had a good hypothesis, as to whom it might be.

He jogged up the ramp to get closer to the Prefect assisting them. Having the nerve to handshake with both hands he said, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Alphard Black. I'm in Slytherin too! My family is 'Toujour Pur.' Been that way for ages. What about your name?"

Riddle was caught off guard by this random affront.

Looking this particular First year full in the face, his dark eyes glinted into the other boy's curiously. "Riddle. Tom Riddle. Like I said, a Prefect. With the power to give out detention. So I suggest you stop cajoling me into whatever it is you're after. I guarantee, you won't succeed."

Ridlde made this quip as he intuituively knew exactly what Alphard wanted. He could deduce after the short intake into Alphard's mind with Legilimency that he knew something about the 'Dark Order'. But Riddle wasn't about to let a naïve, insecure First year in, unless perhaps they proved to be an exceptional asset.

Not the least bit brow-beaten, Alphard Black just casted a crazy smile, his eyes lit up and he laughed sycophantically.

The line was just about approaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the corridor, with Riddle bringing up the flank. He could finally see them off to Professor Merrythought's supervision and go back to his business.

Riddle turned around to go in the opposite direction. When his eyes lit up, slightly annoyed. Alphard Black, was looking right up into his face, and now tapped his shoulder.

He asked with incessant eagerness, the insane smile still plastered, "So, Riddle are you pureblood"?

Raising an eye-brow Riddle made an obscene hand gesture as he showed the ring on his right middle-finger. "What do call this, Black?"

"Er…I don't what-" finally becoming intimidated. The Prefect was now taking up all his space, towering over him.

"Peverell coat of arms! A pure-blood symbol, from the Gaunt line. If you ever research you'll see how revered that is. This…ring is also a reminder of some dear activities of mine. None of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?"

Alphard nodded slowly in awe of Riddle's authoritarian dominance. But thinking he was off the hook, he returned to his dumb smile.

Speaking in a dull voice, and rolling his eyes slightly Riddle continued, "To wipe that smile off, I'm arranging you a detention. A detention with the caretaker Saturday."

Turning to leave Riddle finished, "My personal life is out of bounds…" Riddle's echoing footsteps, then resounded back down the corridor, disappearing.

Alphard just crossed his arms and entered his class, stomping. He was about a minute late. He was feeling determined spunk to get in the Dark Order. He just knew that had to be the gang leader!

The next afternoon towards the end of the week on Friday, Sixth years had their first potions lesson of term. They queued up as always at the solid doors, with the torches and candlelight lining the walls of the dungeon corridor.

Tom Riddle strode in a sublime fashion into the classroom, carrying a copy of Advanced Potion Making, once the doors opened to Professor Slughorn's classroom.

He skirted over to the table in the front and center of the room, as he had nearly always done since learning potions. It was for the natural reason, that it would be quicker to get ingredients and be more efficient. Tom also preferred the front in this class so that fellow classmates would not see what he was doing and copy his rather more talented technique to potion-making.

Eileen, demurely followed Riddle to the same table. Riddle did not take much notice, but seemed much more interested in whatever Slughorn had in mind for the students.

Slughorn had been traversing towards the front desk, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. It was a hot day, even for September. But despite, the coolness of the dungeons, it did not seem to cool Horace off. He waited patiently as less than ten students got themselves settled and their books out, if they weren't already.

The three Ravenclaws chose their own table, as did the two Hufflepuffs and two Gryffindors.

"Well…even for N.E.W.T standard, it's a smaller size than other years. All the better for all of you to learn and amass more knowledge," Slughorn addressed the nine sixth years.

Eileen was quite glad that the two other followers in Riddle's year including Rabastan Lestrange did not make it to the advanced level. She thought, since they were together sharing the table, Tom and herself could work like a team.

"I hope you've all been intrigued by the potion that's in each cauldron at your tables. Does anyone know of it? Observe its mother of pearl sheen and the characteristic spirals undulating…Well?"

People stared intently at the potion and then looked around bewildered. They did not know what powerful effect it was exactly, but there was definitely something special about this potion, as some people noticed savory odors.

Tom Riddle did not immediately register what it was. He was certainly intrigued by this potion though and surprised there was still a potion he did not about that was already invented.

Eileen timidly answered, slowly raising her hand, "A love potion, professor?"

"Yes, it is," Slughorn heartily replied. "The mother of all love potions...Yes...Amortentia will certainly create a powerful infatuation, an obsession."

Meanwhile Tom Riddle was eyeing it with slight disgust mixed with shrewdness. He recalled back to the night he killed the Riddles and what that conversation he'd eavesdropped on had been about.

This must have been the potion my mother gave to Tom Riddle Senior to woo him, he deduced savagely, biting back anger. He hated this potion, not just for what it represented but for that other reason as well and he sincerely hoped he wouldn't be expected to brew it.

Eileen breathing in from the cauldron in front, loquaciously commented, "Mhhm...There's a scent of pine…and pomegranate, no blood mixed with-" She was suddenly giggling profusely, and instinctively looked at Riddle, blushing madly.

Nearly everyone reacted distastefully towards Eileen's little recitation, as to them those smells did not sound quite seductive. Pine reminded Eileen of the wood on Stonewall Estate, where she'd lived all her life. Pomegranate, of a wine at social occasions and blood, was something she subconsciously connected with Riddle from all the times they had used blood in the Dark Order proceedings.

Slughorn laughed, his walrus mustache curling, "It's what attracts you, Eileen. To everyone it's smells differently. That's the beauty of it." 

Luckily, nobody seemed to notice that an element of what attracted her, concerned the boy beside her.

Riddle was now smirking at the potion, but also eyeing it in a new light. Tom could smell things that reminded him of fond memories, that he cherished most. Like Eileen there was some blood in it, mixed with the most rotten smell of corpses like the Riddles and possibly the animals he'd killed as a child and also something Riddle could not quite place tangibly, except more a feeling. It was a smell that gave a feeling of absolute power and control, something he was always craving.

"Of course, love potions are a subject we avoid at Hogwarts. But even though, it only manufactures artificial love, yes artificial love. Yet I wouldn't underestimate it. Amortentia is potentially one of the most lethal you'll ever see…Yes, it is," Slughorn reacted to several scoffs of criticism in the room.

After a few more seconds, Slughron clapped his thick hands briskly, "But for this lesson, you're going to make veritaserum. A rather more simple potion than others in the text, which we'll tackle at a later date. Something a little easier, to get the cobwebs out of your brain from the summer….Now clear away the amortentia samples."

Horace, assuming everyone knew how to do so, watched confidently.

Riddle gladly took the initiative and hissed, "Evanesco!" while aiming his wand at the potion, siphoning it away, sucked magically into oblivion.

"Turn to page 43 in your copy of Advanced Potion Making," Slughorn announced.

Everybody did as he asked and then he continued, "Obviously this cauldron in front is a sample of veritaserum. A clear, odorless, colorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth. It will take only an hour and a quarter to brew, but a full moon cycle to mature. Since the new moon-cycle just began it should be ready in only a fortnight."

"But first, being the exceptional witches and wizards that you are, I want to test your understanding of the truth serum. What can be used against it?"

"Occlumency can, sir," Riddle answered as soon as Slughorn eyed him.

"Or most antidotes, but of course it's far too unlikely to have one on hand. But it is true that successfully blocking your mind from intrusion can stave off the effects…now please go to the ingredient cupboard and brew your batch of veritaserum," Slughorn monolgued.

Eileen and Tom were the first to arrive at the cupboard, Riddle taking out of the drawers what was needed to brew the potion. Veritaserum only required half a dozen ingredients.

"Tom, can you get the dragon's blood vial for both of us?..and I'll get the spine of lion-fish and puffer-fish eyes?," Eileen asked mildly.

Riddle's lips formed into a tight-line, but he managed a wry smile and a nod.

Walking swiftly back to the table in unison, Eileen and Tom both worked with near equal alacrity, grinding the spine of lionfish until it was a fine powder.

As soon as they were done, Eileen eagerly grabbed her wand and prodded the bottom of Riddle's cauldron, to ignite flames. Riddle did not know what to make of this help, he had no desire to receive any aid at all.

He decided to just concentrate on dumping an ounce of dragon's blood into his cauldron with the plain water, after he had sprinkled the heap of spine of lionfish in. He then started to stir it with alacrity.

Eileen soon caught up with him, after poring over her book at page 43, for the third time, being extra careful to get it right.

In a minute Slughorn made a guttural enunciation from the back, "You should be adding the belladona."

That was precisely what Eileen and Tom and most of the class were doing, except for a few stragglers.

Adding belladonna, a yellowish creamy liquid was a very slow process. Only an ounce at a time and between each ounce, it had to be stirred for about a minute.

"Professor Slughorn!," Eileen suddenly spoke and continued as if with sagacity, "I just realized if me and Tom add our concoctions together, it equates to one whole and ready solution as we each have half of the belladonna so far. I would like us to do that…May we?"

Slughorn's eyes popped open, and his mouth wobbled from incredulity, shaking his head, "My dear, why on earth would you want to?...You and Tom are the most talented potion-makers I've ever taught. I'd rather see you succeed independently, as that's the way a fine potion-maker works…their independent spirit!"

"Oh, alright," Eileen said dejectedly.

She then, glanced at Tom as she was stirring, "Tom, did you ever hear of the song 'A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love'?"

She had spoken quite loudly and now everybody was perked up, listening. The problem was that Eileen in the front and center of the room, was totally oblivious to how strange everyone else thought she was behaving.

Riddle in a constrained voice said, "No, I didn't, Eileen."

Eileen rattled on impetuously, "Oh, Tom! It reminds me of us. I thought if we put our potions together it would be like we're joined in a union of some sort."

Just about finished, Riddle was transferring his veritaserum solution into a vial, but his hand shook at Eileen's strange words. He did not retaliate , as he naturally wanted to have the appearance that he was kind, and not to use vindictive words against Eileen in front of an entire class.

A moment later, Slughorn announced, "The solution needs to soak for thirty minutes. And while it is maturing for the next fortnight, it can never see any sunlight or it will become contaminated."

Slughorn, saw Riddle dotting with his quill his initials, (TMR) as Eileen followed him a few seconds later. "I see you're both finished. Well done, Tom. I'm sure it was brewed perfectly."

"Thank-you, sir." Riddle said in an unusually refined voice.

"In October we'll be tackling the draught of the living dead, one of the most fascinating potions ever."

Riddle handed his vial to Slughorn and so did Eileen. The Potion master happily went and placed them in the storage closet across the room.

Riddle ensconced on the workbench with Eileen.

Everybody laced up their bags after putting away their textbooks and potion kits and standard size two-pewter cauldrons.

Most people went to mill towards the back of the dungeon. Slughorn had not returned from the storeroom walking closet. Since he had not returned, most of the class did not think it permissible to go, without the teacher dismissing the class.

Riddle, his chin in his hand, watched the direction Horace had left. He seemed to be waiting for the Potions Master to return as well.

Eileen was staring at Tom with great longing, that was at once quite intense and passionate. At that moment, she desired desperately for Tom to pay some kind of attention to her. But Riddle seemed to have forgotten all about what she said earlier about Celestina's Warbeck's latest song lyric.

Eileen surmised that Tom had other things on his mind, that were far more important, and she did not relish the fact at all.

A queasiness suspended inside, Eileen started speaking, "Tom…How about I ask Slughorn to let me keep some of the veritaserum? Or I could even make you it. I bet you'd like that!?"

Jerked out of his reverie, Riddle responded in a low tirade, "It's not like I can't brew it myself, you fool. Nor do I have reason to assign you that task, Eileen. And even if I did have veritaserum, I wouldn't wish you to know. For after this lesson, I don't trust your…mental faculties."

Tears now in her eyes, yet managing diplomatically she offered, "What? But even Slughorn said I'm as- almost as good as you, Tom. Of course you can brew it. But it's for my pleasure in doing you the favor."

Eileen did not realize what Riddle meant by the lack of trust. It wasn't magical skill, but rather her ranting, to a rapt audience earlier.

With an impatient, loftiness Riddle continued, "Excuse me? Your pleasure, Eileen?...I'll remind you my rules…when I deal with you later …"

"What does that mean? Could you please be straight-forward?," she timidly questioned.

Hesitating, Riddle's eyes gleamed, and then his lips parted in a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm just as eager to call a premier meeting of the Dark Order as you are to go to one…But for now there is nothing more I have to say," he whispered calmly.

Then glancing towards the back, Eileen intuitively interpreted that as a signal to leave him, which she did.

Springing from the table , a spin of dizziness surged through, and the tears still there, ceased to fall. Heaving her books like a heavy cross, Eileen stumbled to the exit, all the other students having just left.

Eileen thought desperately on how to brew love potions, and moments later a stroke of insight of where to get the source of information came. Eileen needed an alternative route, for of course, the subject of love potions was not in the Hogwarts library.

Now that the potions classroom was deserted, Tom Riddle went towards the storeroom in a swift rush to pursue Professor Slughorn.

Down the lines of shelves, towards the end, was Horace, busy organizing the contents.

Hearing somebody enter, Horace looked up and relaxed at the sight of Tom Riddle.

"Is there anything you need, Tom?"

Riddle struggled on deciding whether to invent a likely scenario, but lightly answered, "No, professor".

Slughorn continued to smile as Riddle approached the other end of the storeroom.

Tom started contributing his help, simply alphabetizing varieties of herbs.

Uncorking a few bottles and checking they were full, Slughorn spoke again, "That young lady, Eileen Prince sure enjoys your company."

It was said in an offhand casual way, but Riddle couldn't prevent his slight distasteful reaction. His hands shook as he dropped the last clump of herbs in the proper box, and he frowned.

Slughorn did not see this, as he was too busy examining the potion bottles.

"Yes, well…I know all about her," Riddle commented dismissively.

He did not want to dwell on that earlier incident. It was something Tom regretted and he hoped Slughorn was going to forget it.

Riddle paused, and out of respect waited for Slughorn to make a last check of the storeroom.

Slughorn turned expectantly, putting his undivided attention on his favorite pupil.

Breaking the silence with sangfroid smoothness he said, "I'm excited about the curriculum for sixth year. For more advanced study of magic, I mean. And I'm curious about the potion we're doing next month…the Draught of the Living Dead. Has it anything to do with the Dark Arts, sir?"

"Deeply impressed…Most wonderfully impressed by your insight, Tom! Why, your ability to discern the broadest, most elaborate concepts before I even teach them," Slughorn said with boastful pride.

"Er…about the subject of the Dark Arts…," Riddle prompted cautiously.

"Oh, Yes. Yes. The draught has more of a counter effect, in direct opposition to dark magic even though it applies a similar theory, as you will observe in class, Tom. I very much doubt anyone will succeed the first time, except for you."

Riddle merely smiled at that thought of only him succeeding.

"I'll be sure to come around and chat again sometime, professor. Thank-you for clearing that up for me," Riddle said sounding positively cheerful.

"Anytime, my boy," Slughorn said with a wave of his hand, heading in the direction of his office.

Riddle turned back towards the classroom to leave, his fingers stretched out and his hands shaking with an odd eagerness. He couldn't wait until the day he found out about how to make a horcrux! As long as he crafted a strategy, in gradual steps, he would wheedle the answer out of this wizard, whom Tom knew had some knowledge in the area. It would take a few weeks, to work up to the day when it would be ripe to ask straight out about horcruxes.

Top of Form 1

Bottom of Form 1


	21. Bizarre Remonstrance

**Chapter Twenty-One: Bizarre Remonstrance**

The Dark Order members had an increasing sense of anticipation into the second week of the autumn term. Riddle had not formally announced when exactly it would be held, as he wanted them to be clueless about the first one. Strategically, the element of surprise was always worth utilizing to instill fear.

So on a Saturday evening Tom finally activated his protean charmed onyx stone that in turn, caused the others' stones to burn and glow.

A rush of anxiety and excitement flooded Eileen, when it came alive within her pocket when sending a message in the Owlery. It was a letter to her father, Graham Prince, addressed to where he worked as Chief Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. After tying the parchment rather sloppily on the school owl, she hastened to get to the Room of Requirement having been informed this was the location for unannounced meetings.

Beyond the horizon between the castle's towers was framed a blood-red sunset. The autumn's air stirred into a breeze that seemed to whisper a warning, and she shivered uncontrollably. Eileen did not understand why she would do so. What was so terrible about Tom Riddle that simply the prospect of his presence caused anxiety?

Meanwhile, Tom Riddle sealed the room so only those with one of the charmed onyx stones could get through the magical barrier he placed at the entrance just then.

What the room had became could not have suited Voldemort's desire to set the mood for the meeting better. It was perfectly sinister, just like himself. Skulls suspended from the ceiling like jack o' lanterns with candles contained inside them, making dim lighting as they floated about.

He was even more pleased with the kaleidoscopic walls his mind had subconsciously harnessed. The walls were like jewels, with mirrors illuminating the candlelight. All together, the combination of the skull lights floating and the mirrors created an optical illusion that the room was moving.

He waited breathlessly in the center, staring. Tom could view ten varying versions of himself from different angles from the mirror walls simultaneously. It was quite pleasing to his enormous self-worth. It fit the agenda of the meeting: to recapitulate the standards Riddle demanded of them.

Within minutes they arrived in groups and gravitated around Riddle in a circle. Evidently, this was typical procedure when their master gave no immediate instruction.

Eileen absorbed herself into the dozen wizards, as the lone witch within Tom Riddle's inner-circle feeling a unity she'd never experienced, yet was glad for it.

Tom Riddle continued to wait, silently surveying each follower individually. A sense of impending doom developed, hanging in the air. Most followers looked down, hunched in black school-robes, the hoods obstructing their visages.

"Greetings my friends…We stand on the eve of another year of opportunity to divest the truth…"

When their cult leader first addresses them it is the custom to kneel. Almost automatically, they kneeled as one, except Eileen who followed suit right afterward. Never in attendance at this particular formal ritual, she was not familiar with it.

"You must be grateful for the inside, privileged knowledge you'll attain with me. The gift of awareness I bequeath to you," Riddle spoke like a great orator, establishing his legitimacy with charm.

As they kneeled most of the follower's looked up their eyes widening, from mixtures of curiosity to fear. For beside Riddle there was something he had hidden in the Room of Requirement a few days ago. Whatever it was, a veil was covering it.

Waving his hand with the Peverell coat of arms still enshrined there, Riddle commenced, "And to know …what I am. For I have a destiny much greater than mere wizardry. When the 'Dark Order' is known, they will all know for sure, that it is _us_ who have the right idea…"

A murmur of assent swept through the group, shifting to guilty shivers over each's hidden doubts and imperfections. Yet glossed over the guilt was the exterior of reverence towards their leader.

It seemed like nobody else was going to get to speak. Riddle ruthlessly manifested more to his speech, "I ask to follow the examples set since the dawn of magical history. Yes, even the International Statute of Secrecy is significant. As that exemplifies how I demand you to behave. Relations with…muggles, relations with squibs is also absolutely forbidden! Or any whose blood is less than pure. I shall know all about breeching those laws and you will be severely punished."

There was no mistaking it now, the atmosphere grew into a state of anxious guilt, yet the irony was that not one of them had committed these crimes.

Riddle does not literally care for the statute of secrecy where wizards agree they won't reveal the magical world to outsiders, but he was creating his own form of propaganda. This was something many of these future Death Eaters would identify with and thus comply to, as they had been taught to abide by it in their families all their life. He always manipulated their ingrained beliefs and values.

Lestrange eyed Rosier from across the circle afraid he knew a horrible secret about him. Mulciber was glaring at Eileen with repugnance. He countered that perhaps she had told Voldemort something about himself and Eileen picking up on Mulciber's look of disdain was discomfited.

Riddle noticing the factions forming, chose to ignore their repercussions for the moment.

He went onward with a saccharine smile, "My plans include getting agents from other wizarding institutions, those outside Hogwarts. They won't really know, at least temporarily how they're entwined with us...It's to dispense my ideas. Ridding the world of those whom dare live amongst us. How to accomplish such a deployable, useful goal?"

Allowing no input or criticism, Riddle postulated an answer to his question immediately, "The answer is to get supporters to endorse us. Allies, if you will. We will show them the vanguard of the highest wizarding ideals. And the rest , those who dare oppose me…will have their reputations besmirched, and of course, be killed. That fool, that champion of mudbloods and commoners will lose in the end. I'm speaking of Albus Dumbledore…."

"So, I've been promulgating this term, as I said last year I would, on taking our power beyond Hogwarts, even before I finish with school. _How_ to embody our ideals... And so, I conceived a clandestine operation. Only, two of you will be chosen. I shall assess who can uphold this great responsibility and serve me with honor. And I realized to myself, through all these efforts, I can provide you with new victims. More profound power over the rest of the wizarding race….But I still wonder whom in this "Dark Order" truly is conformed?…"

The final question in young Voldemort's monologue seemed to be a warning.

Augustus Rookwood was reduced to tears, as if he had met a holy man. He bent forward and kissed the hem of young Voldemort's robes delicately. "My lord, I surrender my talents. I am yours to take on this most vital mission!"

Rookwood was desperate for the glory and confident Riddle would pick him, wrongly assuming he was the prime candidate because he was in the Department of Mysteries accelerated program.

"Yes, Rookwood, you've done much for your master. But don't be so arrogant to already proclaim yourself the one to act on my behalf in demonstrating the truth."

There was a lengthy silence, and then Riddle threw his head back, "I sense treachery. However covert, there is great treachery present tonight."

With a flick of his wrist, the object underneath the veil was exposed.

It was a glass eye. In it's center was the tiny black pupil, bloody veins sprouting outward.

Riddle casually directed the eye with his wand, and it went straight for Evan Rosier.

He collapsed under the pressure, his palms flat on the stone floor. "I confess my abysmal recollections. I'll do better to remember next time. To uphold the history of our race. And our Lord, who is of the highest order. I-I failed you," he sobbed.

Riddle's expression remained blank, as he softly interrogated, "Oh, yes. How may that have been, Rosier?"

Glancing at his peers terrified Rosier screamed, "The mudbloods! I met one, and we've remained close contact, My Lord. Do forgive me!"

It was a lie, and Voldemort did not believe for a second it wasn't. This was really all just a game. Yet the other followers, assumed it as a true confession and it only increased each other's anxiety. 

The eye continued to stare at Rosier, who was avoiding it at all costs. But the followers felt a sense of mystique surrounding it, as they did not know the eye's purpose. Naturally, what one does not understand, is something one grows to fear.

Tom Riddle stepped from Avery and addressed the others, "You hear this? _You hear this?!_ Exactly, what I imagined. I cannot trust, the flesh and blood of my own. What a travesty!"

He was playing it up, as if deeply disappointed and repulsed.

Out of nowhere, he made a three-hundred-and-sixty-degreed turn toward another.

The glass eye moved in sync. To the followers it was an illusion that the eye had moved of it's own volition.

"Lestrange! What have you done for this organization during the two month holiday? Well?!…Better than Rosier, I bet?"

Feeling ostracized, Rabastan tried to subsume himself with an ingratiating smile. "I have snubbed the lesser kind every opportunity I could, My Lord. Recited our ideals, vindicating them to all I associate with that dare disagree!"

Lestrange finished his short rant, desperately glancing at his master, panting like he'd run a race. 

Riddle looked from Lestrange and back to Rosier, pretending he was about to favour one over the other.

Taking a few lazy steps back over to Evan Rosier, Riddle drawled, "What a competition this is. Whom can better serve me? This time around, Lestrange is certainly the victorious one. Your confession is your apology, Rosier. No need for more. Except…."

Young Voldemort raised his wand over his head, and issued the Cruciatus curse.

Evan Rosier from the kneeling position, grappled on the ground.

Once the curse was released, Rosier felt a tremendous catharsis. He had actually masochistically enjoyed the experience and he cried, "Thank-you master!"

Rabastan Lestrange had the most coveted sour look on his face, despite avoiding punishment. He was jealous of the lack of attention and he thought Evan Rosier was making him look inadequate.

The eye wended it's way around the circle of just under a dozen. Mulciber, his big hands clasped into fists shook violently as the eye targeted him.

Yet Tom Riddle chose not to interrogate Mulciber. Allowing the eye to finish storing it's whole warehouse of data on the followers without comment. It was true Riddle was never passing up an opportunity to do Legilmency, but the glass eye would store insurmountable loads of information on the followers. Riddle would have a treasure trove of nearly every little detail . There was no room for secrets when it came to the leader's awareness.

As the glass eye analyzed the last of the followers, Riddle watched serenely, his chest puffing out slightly, supremely confident that he knew what he was doing.

Finally, the eye roved to Eileen Prince. She had turned a shade of green from the building tension of the last several minutes, waiting for her turn.

Lord Voldemort had planned to set in on her last, because he was choosing not to store anything on her. The glass eye had a limited capacity. Riddle felt he'd learned everything pertinent about the girl previously from possessing her body last summer.

Waving his yew wand twice, none surmised that the magical eye was inactivated now. He let it linger over the lone witch in the circle, trembling under it's laser-like gaze.

Eileen imploringly glanced up at Tom Ridlde's handsome face, her expression morphing into mortification. She recalled her blunders in the first potions class, and so dispelled her arms stretched outward, "I'm not good enough for you, My Lord. I can't help at all. I'm an invalid."

"It's hard to believe that you're a witch. Anyone could have helped me as you did, Eileen. I ask, lighting my cauldron….?"

Riddle stopped for a moment to listen to his follower's desrisive laughter in response to the sarcastic remarks. It was like music to his ears. All of this combated what Eileen had done during that Potions lesson a couple of weeks ago.

"Do you honestly think I'd appreciate such weak gestures? No….They were simply an obvious suggestion of your stupidity."

Brushing Eileen off like an irksome fly, Riddle finished, "That brings us to the dismissal."

One at a time, each follower took their turn to go into the center, kissing the hem of young Voldemort's robes, just as he expected of them. 

Tom Riddle was quite satisifed with how he'd just treated Eileen. Giving an appearance of being sweetly sinister, the followers did not succumb to the realization of how Eileen Prince had succeeded in embarrassing him on that day. He got back at her, without being overly obvious or sinking to inordinate depths of revenge.

Tom Riddle nodded significantly, towards Eileen. She interpreted it as a signal to stay behind. Within a minute all the followers had departed the Room of Requirement.

Riddle did not seem to take anymore notice of Eilee though. He picked up the glass eye, covering it once more with the heavy cloth, and held it gingerly.

With a most pleased expression, Riddle gazed transfixed into the kaleidoscopic mirrors, reveling in some kind of megalomania he was feeling.

At that, Eileen nervously approached, careful not to touch the moribund skulls floating right over her, their dim light casting the room in an ethereal glow.

"Do not lie to, Lord Voldemort. He always knows…._Always_."

Eileen felt a rush of extreme paranoia, for she believed her authority figure was omnipotent.

Riddle finally turned around, announcing sweetly, "And I know everything about you, Eileen. _Everything_."

Eileen became confused as she did not understand how he could know everything about her. But then thinking of the wrong explanation, she glanced at that glass eye still in his strong grip. She had no memory of him possessing her. She did not know Tom had analyzed her soul, includiing all the thoughts, memories, and feelings she had had up to that point in time.

There was no desire inside Eileen to retaliate his punishing, cruel words of before. To Eileen, they were justified, as she _had_ made a huge mistake during the potions lesson.

As the two left, Riddle sealing the room shut so none could see what it became when he entered, Eileen experienced a real sense of paranoia. Traipsing back to the Slytherin quarters, with the harrowing thought, that she was being watched….


	22. Awful Aspirations

Chapter Twenty-Two: Awful Aspirations 

"I won't say a word, sir," said the boy, quite nearly a man and he turned to leave.

There came a wild exultation engulfed upon his face. Full of the disturbing pleasure of the boy's true smile.

Tom Riddle's brilliant mind whirled over the contents of Slughorn's spilling the beans on horcruxes to him just seconds ago.

His footsteps echoing down the charms corridor on the second floor, having just left the Slug Club meeting. Riddle recalled the Potions Master's obvious cluelessness towards his powers, "_'you don't want to be caught out of bed after hours,….and you a prefect!'…well there was no chance of that happening_!"

He glanced about the surrounding area, then made himself invisible, his fingers quivering while grasping that fifteen-inch yew wand.

Moments later, going down the stairs two at a time, Riddle breezed past the Dark Order members, Lestrange and Avery undetected by them. Both had just been at the Slug-Club meeting as well.

He got to the arched entrance into Slytherin muttering, "Tiger Lily" as the newly changed password done by Eileen. A glimmer of a silver outline like a mirage appeared. Riddle went through the momentarily clear wall.

The common room still held stragglers burning the midnight oil. Riddle crossed the threshold, past all the students unseen, consumed by an unknown passion, that seared his awful heart with virulent desire.

Going left towards the boy's tunnel beads of sweat slipped off his hollow cheeks from the excitement. He traversed down the sloping path of the tunnel, in heavy darkness, with only the light of his wand.

Swinging the door shut, with the post of "sixth years" on it Tom went into the bedroom he still shared with three other boys. He was looking forward to next year, in which he would surely be made Head Boy and have the honor of his very own dormitory.

But at least for now the others weren't present. Riddle knew they were probably sitting in the common room finishing their essays for Professor Slughorn, who had told them they'd be getting detention if they weren't handed in by tomorrow.

Undoing invisibility he was suddenly seeably present again. Riddle proceeded to open the box- shaped chest under his bed, where was stored valuable keepsakes.

He took out that little black book that was a diary on top of black-and-white flashy dressrobes recently purchased at Madam Malkin's at Diagon Alley. There was also a time-turner wrapped around a piece of parchment in there. The time-turner had been brought back from Augustus Rookwood, who stole it for his Lord, whilst visiting the Department of Mysteries. Rookwood was training to eventually become an Unspeakable when he got older. Tom Riddle had turned down his personal invitation, much to the dismay of the department. The Unspeakables had been disappointed on how a prodigal wizard like that, did not wish to study the great mysteries of life and magic.

With dawning comprehension and nearly insane look of glee, Riddle decided that the piece of proof of being Heir of Slytherin would be a horcrux. Just one piece of his goal of seven horcruxes, and of seven important murders! Gazing at the black-stoned ring, Tom felt a rush of nostalgia for his first murders. The Peverell Coat of Arms ring, now worn constantly on his right middle-finger would become Horcrux number two. As for the further horcruxes, Riddle only thought for now of the hope to obtain _something_. Some type of object of each founder of Hogwarts.

Riddle whiled away an hour, his brain working furiously, studying the complex problem of _how_ to make a horcrux, for Professor Slughorn had said he didn't know the spell. Riddle knew it was true that the Potion Master's knowledge was limited as far as that. He briefly debated if the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore who was exceptionally powerful would know. _He may, but the man was so full of ideas on "goodness" it was doubtful he knew how to actually make them either_, was his thoughts on the subject. Besides that reason, young Voldemort was well aware Dumbledore was the only teacher who couldn't be charmed.

Around midnight he left his dorm, quite tired of this mega intellectual quandary. He knew it would take years of experimentation to discover for himself the knowledge of the Dark Arts that would lead to the answer on horcruxes. Even if he did know the spell, he wouldn't have tried it tonight, for he might accidentally kill himself!

Riddle left his room, and went out through the rough-walled tunnels to the nebulous lamp-light of the Slytherin common room. His eyes darted into the distance where the only two students still present after midnight were, their heads bent reading feverishly, while simultaneously managing to write.

Riddle came over quietly, and stood like a shadow over their shoulders. "Well…it looks like you boys managed to finish your essay on time for Slughorn," he noted satisfactorily.

Lestrange rushed to finish his essay with a floruish, remembering at the last second to dot his "I"s and cross all his "t"s. Meanwhile, Avery was writing his essay, with very scrawly penmanship.

Lestrange looked up implorgingly at his gang leader, "Take a look at it…My Lord. I can always do with your scholarship, which you always remind us can't be copied for as you say it is much too seminal."

Riddle nodded dutifully, narrowing his eyes occassionally as he read through and his curved, but thick brows raising, yet he looked wary of the activity of reading over an essay.

"This…should get Exceeds Expectations. Except for the erroneous conclusion, Lestrange. You fail to mention the actual effects of the strengthening solution. Of course, that is the main purpose of potions. Is it not the purpose of learning potions to understand their effects?"

Riddle took the paper and started crossing out sentences in the conclusion and adding a couple of new ones, but he did not help Lestrange any further for him to get "Outstanding".

Finished Tom said sounding weary, "Not too bad for your standards, Lestrange. And let's see Avery's essay on the very same subject…"

Riddle's eyes glazed over to Avery unconcernedly. Avery's left hand was still flying across the brown parchment. Riddle scanned it, surmising it was about as good as Lestrange's and Riddle recalled how Avery used the spelling charm on his quill that he had reminded him to do last week as Avery was a poor speller, though reasonably intelligent, as even Riddle believed. Afterall, Tom Riddle wasn't going to permit idiots into his Dark Order.

Riddle sighed exasperatedly, "Now, we've got that menial work finished…I'm calling it a night."

And the three boys departed the vicinity without another word to each other.

The next morning, Eileen Prince was getting down to her breakfast as soon as the meal appeared. As if on cue, dozens of owls soared into the Great Hall right as everyone was starting to eat, just as they do everyday. Eileen thought she recognized one little gray owl that was most distinctly familiar.

She saw it was her father's owl, Emory. In its talons was a flat package that it dropped onto Eileen's place in the long table, almost knocking over the milk jug. She picked at the attached card, taped on top of the flat package, to read it first:

_Dearest Eileen:_

Here is the book you requested from our family's library on Stonewall Estate. I apologize for taking a couple of weeks to send it to you, but you know how your mother can be mad sometimes with hiding things. The family does wish you well, and we look forward to having our daughter home for the holidays. Meanwhile, your brother, Francis is growing like a weed and asking so many questions as chidren do at that age!

_Your Loving Father_

Eileen sighed after finishing the sentimental note and looked up, and became startled at once. Several were watching with mixtures of eagerness and greed. Eileen unwrapped the extravagant metallic green paper, and a thick, embossed copy of _Encyclopedia of Magical Remedies_ was revealed. The half dozen or so students, who had been watching her, all shrugged, going back to whatever it was they were doing before. Getting a book from home was not interesting to them like getting sweets they could bum off from the other package-getters.

But to Eileen it was the answer to all she had been pondering for the last few weeks, ever since the first Potions lesson of the year. For now, she slid the book to rest in her lap as she ate, too afraid to open up to the pages of information on the subject she was after, while in the openness of the Great Hall. So, Eileen decided she would have to wait until later that day.

After the last class, which was Potions, Eileen was free to do what she liked, with dinnertime a few hours away. She hurried off to the library, almost running. But then, becoming conscious of it, she forced her feet to let go of the impulse.

Meanwhile, Mulciber's bulky figure was prominent, leaning against the first bookshelf of the roped-off _Restricted_ _Section, _his thick forearms crossed.

Moments later, Tom Riddle was striding through the hazy late-afternoon sunshine in an unusual buoyant fashion. Evidently, this meeting with the gang leader had been made by appointment, as Mulciber had been waiting there for his arrival.

Rabastan Lestrange was also present in the flank, making rounds about the small groups glaring at them. They picked up on the activities of him, and Riddle's presence as a hint to go off somewhere else in the library. Most students in the school would depart as soon as they saw the group that harbored such a dark glamour in the castle wanted to be alone, almost nobody dared to cross them.

Tom puts his arm around Mulciber's shoulder and led him off to talk by the windows, at the end of the row of shelves.

Eileen had just arrived, and in passing saw Riddle, and decided she couldn't help but seat herself nearby. Lestrange, still lurking in the corners to guard off potential eavesdroppers, nodded in agreement when he saw the girl. Eileen was permitted to be present, as she was a member of the Dark Order after all. She opened her book, Encyclopedia of Magical Remedies, and her bony fingers turned to "Amortentia."

Riddle whispered, "It seems I've had a brain-wave during my potions class…it was on the Draught of the Living Dead."

"That's nice, My Lord. But what about the Imperius curse?," Mulciber countered churlishly.

"That's just the point I was getting to Mulciber," Riddle patiently replied, ignoring the rude tone. "I'm almost sure that if the Imperius and the sixth stage of "Draught of the Living Dead" combine, it produces over…our subjects a most curious reaction. A reaction that we shall make happen on Halloween."

Mulciber smiled delightedly, and almost clapped his hands form excitement, but restrained himself to squeezing them.

Riddle was looking out the window, out at the grounds where the First Years could be seen having their last Flying lesson. They zoomed past the library windows in three formations, now confident on a broomstick after nearly a month's practice.

"Is it possible you could teach me, My Lord? I mean, I thought you wanted me to become specialized in the Imperius curse?"

"Yes, of course I do Mulciber," Riddle calmly whispered, as he turned on his heel suddenly. He had felt someone's eyes on him.

Straight ahead, down the row he spotted Eileen. She was innocently reading, but as Riddle glanced at her, she looked up again to stare in Riddle's direction. The color was rapidly draining from her face, turning marble-white. Eileen then forced herself to look down again and continue with her reading, inwardly praying he wouldn't discover her interest in the most-powerful love potion.

His eyes narrowed, and peered back at Mulciber. "Let's see…Start with the quintessential understanding of the curse, before we begin what is an experiment on Halloween. You'll have to read up on how one throws off the curse, and also the distillation of the living dead potion. I'll grant you as a partner of mine in the event, Mulciber."

"Sounds good…I'll be sure to be prepared to do the job," Mulciber answered, mollified that he would have a large role in this operation.

Ridde's dark eyes streamed over to Eileen again. There she was, alone in the library, gulping down the ounce of the Elixir of Youth, with pious devotion. Riddle found it highly suspicious, that the girl wasn't approaching him, as Riddle thought, "_she has never lost an opportunity to spill that garrulous speech in adoration of me_."

The three boys left the vicinity, Riddle's Halloween plot now beginning to fester.


	23. A Nasty Incident

Contination of Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

All the followers had been contacted about how they were going to go about the plans for Halloween. Riddle had meticulously plotted just how to make this serious prank go into motion without anyone getting caught.

So that morning, after breakfast Tom Riddle, Eileen Prince and the rest of the gang and also including many of the other older students were passing the caretaker to get into the carriages.

Riddle waited patiently, as Apollyon Pringle checked his name on the list. Riddle had of course, gotten his guardian Mrs. Cole to sign the permission slip allowing him to visit the village. The poor old matron had been eager to do so, wanting to keep the then thirteen-year-old from hurting the other children as much as she could. Mrs. Cole had only become more terrified of the boy Voldemort as he grew older and thus gladly left him to his own thoughts as much as possible.

The carriages creaked down the road with a gusty wind blowing in from the north. The sky was a pallid, grim blue, not a cloud in the atmosphere. The several dozen or so carriages taking the older students to the village, came to an abrupt halt on the edge of the village.

Orion Black was another member of Riddle's gang, though less impassioned than the primary followers. His face was currently flushed red. He had looked tense throughout the entire trip from the school. It was obvious to Voldemort that he was aching to say something.

"What is it that you're just bursting to say, Black?"

Orion's mouth wobbled stupidly, it was obvious that whatever was on his mind, he was too afraid to say it.

"Just spit it out or I'll find out through other means. I have my ways, you know."

Eileen looked to Orion's quaking frame and she nodded in agreement to Riddle's casual statement. Her emerald scarf trailed in the wind, as she traipsed behind Riddle decked out in muggle attire today: a v-necked cardigan and long skirt with high-heels. She had wanted to wear something different for Halloween. Opposite to what muggles did on Halloween, Eileen considered this the one day of the year to willingly dress like a muggle for the fun of it.

"Well, the noble and most ancient house of Black is pure-blood… I heard from my sister, Walburga how Alphard had –er offended you. All I ask, is that you forigive my cousin and spare him from this."

Orion's pastel blue eyes looked beseechingly into Riddle's handsome dark ones.

"My lord, please. You can't-"

Riddle held up a hand to silence Orion as they passed the last of the ginger-house like cottages, coming to the block of stores.

"Rest assured that I have no desire to target pure-bloods, Orion. What a silly misconception of you to think that. I may even have Alphard initiated in the future. He has, afterall shown spirit in daring to be impertinent towards me."

Orion finally looked convinced, and he breathed a sigh of relief just as Eileen did. They had entered Honeyduke's Sweet Shoppe. Wafts of the multitudes of treats and candies filled her with comfort. She glimpsed longingly those buying drooble's best-blowing gum, chocolate frogs and blood-sucking lollipops, and other assorted candies.

Tom Riddle did not even seem to register they were in a candy shoppe. With Orion Black, Eileen Prince, and Mulciber in his wake, he breezed past teenagers milling about the counters, filling bags with the candy they wished to purchase.

The loud chattering of students, and the sheer amount of them clustered around the narrow rowed counters, made it an easy place to slip past unnoticed.

"Do your little part, Orion by getting the candy," whispered Riddle.

"What? You want me to get you candy?," Orion exploded with incredulity.

"To lure the children into the passageway. I'm not the one to eat the sweets. Buy it, steal it, whatever suits your fancy. Just bring it to me." As an afterthought, he sniggered at the idea of asking a follower for such a petty favour as buying candy for Lord Voldemort to consume.

"And you wait here, and back him up if the situation warrants it, Eileen."

Riddle and Mulciber stalked up towards the front counter. Riddle's wand was only just visible, poking through his robes as he casted a confundus charm nonverbally over the storekeeper.

The aproned, balding man nodded appreciatively towards Riddle. The two slipped slipped into the back storeroom, the storekeeper only bearing an almost comical acceptance.

Using hover charms, Mucliber and Riddle quickly cleared the boxes in the way of the trapdoor. Once free of that barrier, Riddle waved his wand and the conealed door in the floor opened on its hinges. Mulciber and then Riddle stepped into a dark abyss, racing down hundreds of steps.

Mulciber and Riddle did not speak to each other at all, after descending the hundreds of steps, and then into a dark, ravine like valley through the secret passage between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. But a few minutes later Eileen and Orion came hurtling towards them in the dark, Orion with a large parcel.

They stopped running when they caught up to the two walking. Eileen clutching a stitch at her side.

Mulciber and Riddle came to back to the center of the passage under the one-eyed witch, at the place where Riddle had his secret work-station for his own private experiments.

Macnair was beside Avery on the ledge in front of the ramp that led down from the statue's hump.

For the next several minutes, they waited continuously casting spells over the trap door. Riddle and the others meanwhile, were busy getting ready the ingredients.

Eileen and Orion Black, returned, each carrying large sacks of candy.

"Homenum revelio!," tried Macnair. A human presence, directly above the statue was detected.

'They're here…I think," said Macnair.

Riddle said, "Go and greet them…Give them the candy to show for it, just as it was promised."

Orion threw up his sack of candy towards the ledge and Avery caught it smartly.

They opened up the trap door, and climbed up the ladder.

"Dissendium," muttered Avery. And then the back of the witch was opened. Two small, peaky faces peered into it, curiously.

"Come on…We have the Halloween candy to share with you," said Walden Macnair, in a very convincing voice.

In filed, one by one a bunch of first year students. Gryffindor, Michael Adder's innocent care-free smile, followed by a braided little girl, Mary Yardley, a Slytherin. Then the straw-coloured hair of Timothy Johnson, a Hufflepuff. And finally, the slightly suspicious look of Ciceron Harkiss a Ravenclaw. Although each was from a different house, what each of them had in common was that they were Muggle-borns.

"Help yourself, eat as much as the Honeydukes candy you want," said Riddle.

The First years assented, and with giddiness tore at the bags of candy, gobbling down the sweets. They seemed exuberant and oblivious to the other activity going on around them. Instead of watching what the Dark Order was doing, they chattered away, only giving half glances at the followers.

Riddle, Rookwood and Eileen and Rabastan Lestrange were chopping roots on several cutting boards with the flat side of their daggers.

Then the other followers gathered around, watching as they dumped the sopophorous beans into the lit cauldrons, full of boiling water.

Next, the four in charge of brewing the Draught of the Living Dead, stirred the contents of the potions meticulously, while simultaneously adding more ingredients. Within a few minutes, a bluish steam was engulfing the candle-lit cavern.

"Lestrange, hurry up and do it right or don't do it at all," murmured Rookwood nervously under his breath, as he saw his partner was working slowly and Riddle was finished.

"In order for the experiment to work, we're going to leave it in the half-way stage marker….We don't wish to permanently incapacitate," whispered Riddle.

Mary Yardley was giggling loudly, pointing her index finger at Michael Adders, whose mouth was smoking from one of the candies he was chewing.

And then another minute passed, and all four of the potions was at the halfway stage, simmering inside four silver cauldrons, each a smooth currant black mixture.

Riddle went over to another area of his workstation and got out several bottles. Next, Eileen, Riddle and Rookwood, and Rabastan Lestrange, poured each potion into the bottles.

"So, kiddos," said Mulciber with an attempt at geniality. "Do you feel a tummy ache coming on?"

Mary Yardley and Ciceron Harkiss smirked a little, but the Hufflepuff, Timothy Johnson was more trusting. Timothy smiled and said, "Maybe, in a little while. I could get a stomach ache, eating all this candy."

"Well, we have a potion here to counteract stomach ailments," said Riddle with definitive simplicity, like he was some kind of healer at St. Mungo's.

"How come YOUR not taking the potion?," demanded Ciceron, his brows scrunching up apprehensively.

"Did you see us eating the Honeydukes sweets?," bellowed Jugson, a bit too condescendingly. And Jugson lunged at the small, skinny frame of Ciceron Harkiss, who cowered back against the wall at this threat.

"I am very full," commented Mary Yardley, stiffly, hands on her stomach. "Give it to me," she finished.

Riddle's face contorted into some form of an ugly secret smile and he gave the bottle of the potion at the half-way stage of the Draught of the Living Dead.

"Thanks," Mary said to Tom, and she drank from it hungrily, like a baby to a bottle. The followers threw the other bottles into the First years' hands, demanding and bullying them to drink.

Within minutes, the First Years were lolling on the ground, drowsiness setting in. The blue steam engulfing the cavern was subsiding, and the First Years were all lying out on the earthen mounded floor.

"Ah, the half-way stage…Artificial death…One day I will have a real army and one of my legions will be of the dead. I shall amass an army of Inferi just like Gellert Grindelwald!" said Riddle sounding enthused.

Without instruction from Riddle, the husky form of Mulciber strode forward and quipped at one of the children inert on the dirt ground of the cavern, "Imperio!"

A look like that of a blank slate came across the Gryffindor, Michael Adders.

Riddle hissed, his face ablaze with excitement, nostrils flaring, "Imperiuse our subjects….Force them to pretend they're dead!"

"Come on, Prince," nudged Mulciber rudely. Eileen looked to her right where Mulciber still had his wand raised at Adders, a look of cruel humor on the future Death Eater's face.

"Er…I don't know if I should," said Eileen indecisively.

She watched Riddle go for the one and only girl who had been taken, Mary Yardley, the Slytherin Mudblood. Riddle did not even speak but suddenly the girl looked as lifeless as a porcelain doll with two braids. She was so Imperiused and sedated, that she looked like she belonged in her coffin already. Anybody would have thought them all dead.

Riddle smiled and said "Crucio!," as he watched the effect of the torture curse on an unaware being with fascination. Mary Yardley just curled up into a ball, wriggling. She did not have the ability to scream.

"Come on, Eileen...Pick a victim to play with," he added with amusement .

The other followers came around, standing to observe in a circle. They looked at Mucliber, Eileen, and Riddle in the center, with the four immobilized eleven to twelve year olds.

Eileen smiled widely at Tom, but he wasn't looking at her. He was still watching Mary Yardley's reaction to the potion and the curse's combined effect.

Still smiling, she said with blind obedience, "Yes, Tom."

She waved her wand at Timothy Johnson, the blonde-haired Hufflepuff boy. "Imperio! Imperio!," she yelled. She felt a tingling sensation in her brain, as she concentrated on ordering the boy to believe he was dead. And then she felt the thought stem from her brain, to a vein in her arm, and into her hand. Once the sensation got to her wand, she knew she had succeeded. She felt exhilarated. It was a high controlling someone else.

Soon, the twelve disciples of the Dark Lord had Imperiused the other two victims, and they spent several minutes Crucioing them out of pure pleasure. Augustus Rookwood, Mulciber, Walden Macnair, Avery, Rabastan Lestrange, Orion Black, Isaac Nott, Rosier, Rodolphus Lestrange, Avaron Jugson, and Antonin Dolohov and Eileen Prince.

The young Voldemort rose from where he had been Crucioing and levitating Ciceron Harkiss at the same time, and then he dropped him carelessly back into the dirt, the boy's robes sinking into the dank shadows.

Riddle surmised, "This magic when fully incorporated, makes it impossible to recognize the bodies of our victims. We shall keep this in mind for the future, or I shall. It appears the first leg of the operation is successful…Now-"

And everyone looked at Riddle, expressions rapt.

But Voldemort seemed to have forgotten about everything for a moment. He was looking around the cavern, his dark eyes glinting, lost in thought. He was thinking about the cave he'd explored as a ten year-old. It would be a good place to store his future Inferi Army.

"Now – You know the routine," he said plaintively. "Remove your last spell performed with an acceptable one and we leave the hostages to go to the feast."

They all raised their wands and performed a simple spell to erase their prior Unforgiveables just performed. Then they filed up the ladder, Riddle going last a minute later. He did not even glance at the four unconscious children, now held in captivity under the statue of the one-eyed witch.

Note: I would appreciate a review.


	24. A Nasty Incident 2

Note: Sorry I keep abandoning this story

Note: Sorry I keep abandoning this story. I will write it all one day, it's just I had other projects consuming me. But now that I'm not writing any other piece with Voldemort having a huge role - I am wanting to return to him. I think I will with this story.

Please review. I know it's not much. I plan to finish this chapter within the next few days.

Continuation of….

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

A little while later, four boys of the secret Dark Order were passing the Great Hall. Avery went to one side to stand guard, and Jugson the other.

Meanwhile, Orion Black and Rosier were in front of the closed doors of the deserted Great Hall. Each of them took a deep nervous breath and then braced themselves to do exactly what their gang leader instructed. In whirls out of their pockets came little vials of blood. It was some of their own blood stored from their initiation ceremonies.

They dumped it on each of the double doors, and with their wands the trickling drops appeared before the huge doors, formed into little streamers, until words appeared in blood. The enchanted words along the passage in front of the Great Hall read, "The Mudblood Brats Are Alive…But in Pain."

Once Rosier had finished writing it, his wand like a quill, he clapped his hands jubiantly.

Jugson almost yelled, "Sluggy! Slughorns coming!"

But it was too late, Slughorn had already turned the corner and was mere feet away from Jugson, and only several yards away from the other boys. He had not heard Jugson's hoarse whisper of a warning.

"Jugson, Avery….What are you up to my boys?" he said grandly, clearly in a good mood in anticipation of the Halloween celebration.

Quick on the uptake, Rosier said dryly, "Nothing at all, sir. We only wondered why that message-"

But Rosier stopped short as Slughorn exclaimed in a boom: "Merlin's Beard! What has happened?!…'The Mudblood Brats Are Alive But In Pain'? Are Mudbloods, excuse me… students gone missing?"

"We don't know what happened either," said Rosier slowly and acting convincing enough for his capability at deception.

Slughorn turned to Rosier and said with an edge, "I can see you may have something to do with this. Furthermore, I am a fairly good Legilimens, don't you lie to me, Rosier! Come on boys, we're getting the headmaster."

"Why must we come with you? We only came down for the feast," said Orion in a small whiny voice. He was clearly afraid to have Professor Dippet involved.

Slughorn rattled on, trying to take calming breaths. "Because - for the moment you are - suspects…That threat whether empty or real is a serious crime!"

The four boys reluctantly went alongside Slughorn's rotund frame, passing the giant boar statue and going up the main staircase. There was a noisy disturbance down below, the chattering of hundreds of students filing in from their Hogsmeade visit, and making their way into the Great Hall for the feast.

Jugson was surprised to see Riddle in the front of the crowd. Riddle had used his disillushionment charm, and then appeared amongst the group, making it look like he had stepped out of the carriages. He had nothing to fear, thought Jugson a little resentfully.

"We're going to miss the food! I'm hungry," complained Jugson with a peevish glowering look at his teacher. "Can't this wait until later, sir?"

"No. I'm hungry as well!" yelled Slughorn, an actual rumble emitting from his stomach. "But we can't just sit around when students are in danger!"

Rosier and Avery nodded sympathetically to Slughorn, trying to feign concern for the thought of missing students.

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	25. A Nasty Incident 3

Continuation of…

Continuation of….

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

Orion Black, Avery, Rosier and Jugson were with Professor Slughorn who was knocking on Professor's Dippet's door. Nobody answered and Slughorn was reduced to banging on it, until he finally concluded that the headmaster must not be present.

"Let's go, boys. But I assure this is not over," said Slughorn irritably.

But at once the door opened and Armando Dippet with his balding tufy gray hair, small black eyes and wearing a crinkling smile was standing in the doorway. He apologized, "Horace, I am sorry. I was just getting dressed for the feast. Shall we go, then?"

"No. I'm afraid there are more pressing issues at hand. That must be dealt with immediately, professor," said Slughorn, as urgently as he could, sounding long-winded as he was still out of breath from their rush to the Seventh-floor corridor.

The smile slowly faded from Dippet's face and he asked delicately, "What is it?"

"I think we should go inside. Perhaps you should…sit down first, headmaster," said Slughorn respective yet awkward. Slughorn thought the man rather old and feeble and figured that it would be safe for him to be seated at extolling such grave news.

Dippet nodded, and finally shot a long look at the three boys, wondering what they had to do with this. But he turned around and swept into his office, the others scurrying around.

Dippet eased himself into the throne-like chair, and folded his hands over his desk. "Now tell me, Horace…What terrible news can there be?"

"Well….Some students have clearly gone missing. I found threatening messages on the walls. To put it exactly it said in blood, mind you 'The Mudblood brats are alive but in pain.'"

Dippet sighed and closed his eyes, clearly nettled. "But of course, this wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened throughout the years. The recent years. The problem is we're never able to catch whose doing it!" said Dippet. Dippet continued, "Professor Slughorn, did you see who smeared this awful message?"

"No…But I did find these four near the scene," and he indicated Orion, Jugson, Rosier, and Avery who were either sitting at the other seats in front of the desk or standing behind the others.

Dippet turned to the four boys and looked each one square in the eye one by one. A vein was actually pulsing on his forehead. It was rare to see Dippet so angry. He asked the boys rhetorically, "Did YOU see who smeared the message?"

At once they all shook their heads enthusiastically. But Dippet did not look convinced and neither did Slughorn look the least bit convinced. "Boys…if I do recall…You – er…Mr. Avery and Mr. Jugson were in here a couple of years before for another similar crime. Of course, then none of the information we had could satisfactorily link the acts to either of you. Yet I find you here again being accused of a similar offence. A serious offence!"

Avery and Jugson glanced at each other quickly, and finally Jugson took the initiative, "But, sir – I assure you then and as regarding now, we have nothing to do with any of this!"

"Perhaps you did not…," said Dippet, suddenly more casually, and like he was letting them off. "Consider this, Horace…Last year we were taunted by messages against Muggle-borns of a like kind - also written in blood. In fact, several students of that birth were attacked. There are similarities with that crime and this one. Furthermore, it appears the Chamber of Secrets might actually exist; yet I seriously doubt any of these boys could be the Heir of Slytherin. I do hope this won't be a repeat of last year!" And Dippet's entire face sagged into practically one big wrinkle of apprehensions.

Avery and Rosier couldn't help but expel a nervous laugh at this being implied, because of course, they heard a rumor regarding the fascinating tidbit of information in the cult that their gang leader was the Heir. Yet, they did not know this for sure, only suspected.

"Yes?" said Dippet dryly. "What could possibly be funny about this?"

Rosier added quickly, "We were just laughing at how improbable it would be at the idea we're Slytherin's heirs!"

Dippet did not smile, as he did not find even that funny and he detected intuitively the feeling these boys did not dislike Salazar Slytherin like he did. "Given that we have no evidence and the boys deny their involvement…I feel that I should let them off-"

"Hold on a minute Armando!" broke in a rattled Slughorn. "I think I should at least perform a bit of Legilimency on the boys…"

"Yes, I suppose that would be better-"

"And surely when Dumbledore hears of this, he will want to use his Legilimency powers too…He is, afterall far greater than me, probably the greatest Legilimens of his time!"

"You are right, Horace…But I also think we should be securing the school at the moment, …I am afraid we shall have to deal with these boys later."

Orion, Rosier, Jugson and Avery had a hopeful look in their eyes. The sooner they left the headmaster's study the better they thought. Dippet rose from his seat, "….Yes. I think it is best," he said more to himself. "Come on, boys…I am taking you to separate rooms…. Where we shall have to question you further later."

Orion Black actually paled. Jugson said, blanching as well, "But sir- the feast. We'll miss the feast."

"I would swear to the ministry that I'm innocent," chimed in Avery with the nerve to have true conviction.

"Unfortunately, the ministry cannot get involved with this. At least not at this very moment. Let's go. Now." The real reason Dippet had said this was for his own selfish fears. Alerting the ministry could seriously jeopordize his own academic career as headmaster, especially since the chamber incident had been a mere few months ago!

Dippet beckoned for the boys to walk ahead of him and they had no choice but to obediently follow.

Slughorn caught up to Dippet's side, looking anxious. He asked, "But Headmaster…I'm not so sure the feast should still be on…"

"No. It may. The feast remains. It shall work as a convenient way for the staff to discover if there are truly missing students. As I assume all will attend and any that do not, we shall find out why. I certainly hope not…but I am afraid that students have been taken. Horace? Could you not hurry and tell the rest of the staff to start searching the rest of the school?…And after I confine these four to separate classrooms, I shall be heading down to supervise the feast."

"Yes, sir. Right away," said Slughorn hastily, as he went in one direction down the corridor and Dippet and Riddle's followers another.

Dippet turned around suddenly and said with dislike emanating from his voice, "Oh…and tell me where that Rubeus Hagrid was…Perhaps the horrid boy had something to do with this…"

"I will," said Slughorn, who was gone, running down the steps, hurrying as fast as he could to alert everyone as soon as possible. They should all be making their way to the Great Hall…Meanwhile; Dippet locked up each boy in a separate classroom to be questioned more fully later this evening.

A little while later, Dippet entered the busy Great Hall, full of expectant students waiting for the feast. He was the only teacher present, all the others were busy doing everything they could to get to the bottom of the emergency. The school slowly started to buzz with talk of the surprise that only one teacher had entered, usually they all came in for meals together. And the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle had managed to scrub off without magic the awful message written on the front doors of the Great Hall, but that unfortunately did not occur until every student had went through and seen the words. The room was festive, candles below the star gleaming ceiling and pumpkins strung up and hundreds of live bats. Yet the ghosts were not there, as they were doing all they could to help as well.

Immediately, as Dippet came through a side entrance he was up on the staff table and he went to his special place in the center.

"Before we begin the All Hallows' Eve feast…I have a very important announcement…Please quiet down now and listen. I promise afterwards, we shall begin."

Within a few short seconds, the hundreds of voices died down, and a full silence descended upon the hall.

"Thank-you…It appears that several students are missing…I know not who they are, but I assume they could be anyone not attending the feast. The rest of the staff is currently scouring the school. If anyone knows anything, anything about who is missing or who is responsible I must know. If you are responsible-," Dippet paused with terrible suspense. "I ask now that you be so brave and come forward. I can promise you that if you speak up, AND if those that are not here are NOT seriously harmed…I shall not have anyone in trouble with the school and certainly not the ministry. But only if this is merely a school prank…"

He waited. Nobody spoke. Dippet's eyes scanned the room and he noticed an unusually large gap in the very front benches where the First Years sit. Several of them were conspicuously absent. Tom Riddle looked completely unfazed. Of course, he wasn't going to turn himself in and his followers who were present were certainly not going to either.

Dippet bit his lip, looking disappointed. "Clearly this is a serious malicious attack, then…." Resigned, to the fact that nobody would divulge, and of course, the ever-pressing fear in the back of his mind that it was an outsider not from Hogwarts, Dippet motioned with a clap of his hands. The food appeared on everyone's plates and everybody eagerly started the feast.

Half-way through most of the teachers returned. Dumbledore approached Dippet and said, "Our caretaker, Mr. Pringle is still doing the dungeons. Other than that, it appears we cannot find anyone to be in danger…."

Dippet put down his knife and fork on the plate. He had eaten hardly anything; much too worried there would be another death at the school. If another little girl or boy like Myrtle died, he would probably have to resign as headmaster given the pressure powerful Wizarding families and the ministry would put on him. It certainly did not give him an appetite.

"Right…I suppose you could question the students at the tables, personally, Professor Dumbledore. Save me the bother. I already asked the school if they knew and nothing came of it!"

"Yes, I will do that, professor," said Dumbledore lightly and he strode away, first towards the Gryffindors' table.

A little while later, Professor Dumbledore was fast coming to the conclusion that the missing students had to all be First-years. Each First-year he questioned did not know where there friends had gone, and Dumbledore being a Legilimens saw they were completely truthful. Furthermore, he discovered that every one of the missing First Years, was indeed Muggle-born. At the Slytherin table, he briefly questioned, the little first year with black curly hair named Alphard Black. Dumbledore saw that he was also content and simply enjoying the feast, without a care in the world.

Finally, Dumbledore scanned the back of the Slytherins' table. He found Tom Riddle seated amongst his "friends" as usual, looking positively content as well, actually eating a large piece of pumpkin pie whilst slowly munching on jelly slugs. The only food offered at this feast is candy and he was hungry.

Not a few seconds later, the handsome boy caught Dumbledore's sharp glance. Dumbledore could not believe his eyes what happened next. The boy – who he was sure had a hand in this – In fact, most surely was the mastermind behind this, Riddle had the nerve to actually smile widely straight at him. It was a wicked smile, almost a satisfied smile of pure evil.

Dumbledore moved up the table and hovered beside Riddle, commenting in a low voice, "I wonder what part you played in this, Tom."

Riddle frowned and any exuberant mood he had been portraying before disappeared. He knew he couldn't play Dumbledore. He had long since known there was no way to charm or really manipulate this man.

Riddle looked up, straight at Dumbledore's clear eyes and said firmly, "Nothing, Professor Dumbledore. Please leave me to enjoy the feast. I shall…have your Transfiguration assignment in tomorrow. Good night."

"I know you will, Riddle. But what concerns me is where you were today..." And for a moment Dumbledore forgot he was talking to a young man without a conscience, "We need to find out what happened and locate the missing children. Get justice for them."

Riddle could see his followers and other associates watching and listening now. So he said politely, "I know nothing, Professor Dumbledore. I visited Hogsmeade today and arrived with everyone else just as the feast started, and that message was already up on the door. You can ask my friends, they'll tell you the same!"

Dumbledore gave Riddle one final look of disgust and said, "Yes, I'm sure you've covered yourself completely, Tom." And finally, Dumbledore was out of his way, and Riddle went back to enjoying the feast with everyone else.


	26. A Nasty Incident 4

Continuation of…

Continuation of….

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

It was not until nearly midnight, several hours after the feast that Riddle and his gang returned to the statue of the one-eyed witch. Voldemort had had a good night, for it had given him immense pleasure knowing the fear he created and the fact that his victims were suffering while he was having a ball. Or at least safe and fairly content with himself.

Now, not a single student was out and most of the staff had either retired from the exhausting process of securing the school, or were, as Riddle had recently learned, interrogating four of his followers.

But his other followers were present including Eileen. So in small groups, Rookwood, Mulciber, Macnair, the two Lestrange brothers, and finally, Dolohov with Eileen and Riddle at the end managed to safely sneak into the apparatus and slide down the tiny ramp and get back into the cavern.

The children were all there, sleeping like babies. It was like not a thing was wrong with them, but this just made the situation more horrid. Some of the followers went to turn on the candle fixtures on the walls.

Rookwood watched his master expectantly, as Voldemort knelt down to take a look at the First years well being or lack thereof. Clearly, they were alive, as Voldemort rapidly checked each of their pulses.

Smiling Riddle patted Michael Adder's arm with the queerest gesture, but certainly not true affection. "Thank-you. You've done well," he said to the unconscious boy, but it was as if he was only speaking to an object.

Riddle continued to have a small smile playing on his lips. It appeared his thoughts were elsewhere, as they must definitely were. Imagining corpses and his future army of Inferi.

Rookwood broke the silence, saying with a hopeful air, "My Lord – are we going to leave them in here longer? I do think we could study our subjects more."

Riddle at once came out of the reverie and shook his head, "No," he breathed in a carefree way.

He stood up and addressed them all, "Tonight was a magnificent night, my friends. We have succeeded in an operation of a magnitude, a presence of mind and a talent I thought could never be given from some of you…Over the coming months of the near future, we shall be planning another attack…however this one will be at another Wizarding institution. Not here at Hogwarts!…."

Tom paused. All eight of his followers standing around the four unconscious children drew in their breath with anticipation. Nobody knew exactly what these plans were and they yearned for the knowledge. "Once again, your master commends you for your efforts. It appears my experiment was a success… A shining achievement of my own!"

The followers began to clap slowly, until it grew louder and louder. Riddle seemed willing to allow this, and all the while Eileen was staring around in fascination at Riddle and the power he held with people, his people and...her people!

The clapping grew to a crescendo and the cheering grew wilder so that it was something like Riddle was the hero of a Quidditch Match. Voldemort did not know what to do with himself for a moment, feeling more like a hero than a villain. Until he realized what he knew would be perfectly convenient to depict. He was venturing subtly over to Eileen. She did not see him.

But suddenly Tom had picked her up by the waist, her heels a few inches from the floor, and he twirled her as he held her narrow shoulders. Voldemort kissed with a passion, a powerful sensual zest that was unusual for him to do with anyone at all. He slowed down, stopping the twirling of her frame and kissed some more. All the followers were watching as Riddle put his hands gently to Eileen's face as if he loved her, and looked in her brown eyes with sparks of light and he kissed the girl again. This was just as he wanted it. If all the followers thought, even if only for a little while that Eileen Prince was his girlfriend, it helped create for him a normal image. Yet an illusion he did not want to see anywhere further than inside the Dark Order.

Finally he finished kissing her, and Eileen stared down at the bodies of the victims, as she clung to Tom's shirt lapel with his her fists. But suddenly she was suffused with admiration more than compassion for the First years. Something horrible inside her made her say, "Congratulations, My Lord. I am so glad I offered my services to this!" And in a way she meant it, she felt like a partner in his crimes and she was enjoying the honor of it. She embraced him lightly, and he held her, cold hands grazing her back, and sending a shiver down Eileen's spine, feeling a powerful something for Riddle. A hint of something more that she wanted from him.

Riddle smiled and laughed high and cold, filling the baneful atmosphere with the sound of his presence. She took it as true warmth and she smiled too, filled with a blind admiration for him once more. Yet she really was as blind as a bat this Halloween night. Years later, many years later, she would remember his kisses and then she would realize what they really meant. Tom may be a superb snogger, but his kisses were truly like the kiss of death. And now in the current time, her connections with Riddle were finally starting to become truly hazardous. She had no idea what was in store for her in the future, but years later she would ruminate and mourn her actions of this night.

Finally Riddle had his wand out as the followers cheers' subsided and the room morphed back into it's perpetual gloom. He knelt on the earthen floor. Ennervating the children after observing that the effects of the Draught of the Living Dead had staved off.

"Master – do you wish me to help you?" asked Rodolphus.

"No. I shall work alone at this. We must be sure this is done right before we release them."

So nobody spoke as Riddle next lifted off the Imperius Curses one by one. But before each child could react to awakening from a slumber like being in an early grave, their freedom was at once snatched away. Riddle modified each one's memories and then confunded them as he ordered with the aid of the charm, concentrating hard, "You will not remember from this place. You will not remember the place you leave tonight and you will not recall who is present now."

After a moment each child was awake. They wobbled on shaky legs, some of them pale and sickly in complexion, eyelashes fluttering with drowsiness. Clearly, all was not well with them. Riddle not seem to care too much.

Riddle prodded them gently with his wand and marched them to the chute. He bent down and said in a low tone, but it carried clearly, "Off you go to the hospital wing then." FOr Riddle wanted it to be discovered, the full horror of what was done to them finally would be revealed.

Riddle and Macnair with Eileen helped some of the children climb the ladder and then the precautions to make sure nobody was waiting outside the statue. Finally the hump opened from the inside. Down below the rest of the followers chortled as the children left, "Happy Halloween!"

The children heard it but they could not register what it meant. They did not even remember today's date right now.

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	27. A Nasty Incident 5

**Please review!**

**Continuation of….**

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Nasty Incident

That evening along the same time Riddle returned to the cavern and up to the point he released the captives, four servants remained under fire.

Rosier was the first to be interrogated and it was at that point Dippet discovered there was virtually no evidence that the boys had done anything at all. Meanwhile, the three other boys remained in separate rooms awaiting the teachers' questions.

Dippet came into the room with Dumbledore alongside. "Mr. Rosier…Professor Dumbledore is going to question you."

Rosier nodded and looked calculatingly at Dumbledore. Rosier was well aware the professor would use Legilimency.

Dumbledore appraised Rosier with a knowing gleam in his blue eyes. "Relax," he said, being a bit manipulative, he smiled at the boy. "The faster we find out what happened, the sooner you may leave."

Rosier just shrugged at this; he wasn't going to lead them to the truth. He knew his master planned his escape out somehow, yet he hadn't been informed on the details. Riddle expected nothing less but blind trust and obedience.

Dippet sat beside Dumbledore, across from Rosier. He seemed a bit more composed than he had earlier. Dippet patted his thigh, as if placating himself and asked frankly, "Are you sure you and the others weren't propagating that message on the door?"

"Yes, sir," he earnestly answered.

And Rosier was quick to add, "We told you our alibi before. It remains the same. We were all at Hogsmeade."

Dippet looked like he could be persuaded. He stared at him for an inexorable moment. Finally the headmaster looked to Dumbledore, "Do you think this boy and possibly the others are being truthful? If they do recount the same stories?"

"I don't know," said Dumbledore softly. His blue eyes stared contemplatively into Rosier's. Dumbledore's expression became almost befuddled. Rosier felt very uncomfortable, his breathing was unstable and he fidgeted. He was thinking of his vows and if he broke any command of them he would surely die. Dumbledore did see the vows in his mind but there was no way he could ascertain who was linked to them.

"Guilty conscience, eh?"

Orion jumped. Someone new had arrived in the classroom. Hogwarts caretaker, Apollyon Pringle, and currently, he was holding a long piece of parchment in one hand.

Everyone turned around to see the new arrival, Dumbledore frowning at Pringle. Dippet spoke to the boy first. "Mr. Rosier you should be capable of a more relaxed stance if you're as innocent as you claim. I agree with my caretaker!"

Rosier's mouth wobbled, struggling to offer an explanation.

Dippet continued, "Professor, did you see anything of consequence?"

"I'm afraid not. While it appears true that they were at the scene of the crime, I also see all four of them at Hogsmeade. There is no indication any one of them sprawled that message! And nor is there anything to lead me to the conclusion they're holding students hostage."

Dippet nodded and looked to Pringle. "Well? Were they at Hogsmeade?"

"I believe so, headmaster," said the caretaker. "I wrote their names right here this morning. And nobody makes that list and nobody goes to Hogsmeade without my permission!"

Pringle almost rudely shoved the parchment under Dippet's nose, where he appraised all four names.

"There is a possibility….. My main theory is the boys have access to a passage we haven't heard of. Perhaps that would explain their visit to Hogsmeade and their return to the school," speculated Dumbledore. He looked to Dippet as he said this and then turned back to Rosier.

Dumbledore's clear blue gaze followed Rosier to do Legilimency on him again. But Dippet laughed, as if the prior conjecture that they had discovered a secret passage was comical, almost stupid. "Why Professor Dumbledore! This is an ancient school. Not even the greatest minds of the ages could tap all Hogwart's secrets in a lifetime!…Do you honestly think an unqualified witch or wizard could do so in such a brief time? The school has had a thousand years to store it's secrets. A student could hardly discover them within the brevity of the few years they attend."

Dumbledore had already finished his Legilimency by now. On topics such as the possibility of a secret passage there appeared to be an impregnable wall set up. There was no way he could get to this information. In the follower's mind, regarding the question of a secret passage, he saw nothing but a black void. And this was because Riddle had planted false memories in each of the emissaries minds'. Doing so, he had also removed the real ones. And Dumbledore knew the wall must have been created by a powerful wizard and perhaps the barrier existed through an Unbreakable vow.

"These boys are under the control of Dark magic, headmaster," said Dumbledore very seriously.

"Is this true of you or any of your…friends?" said Dippet testily.

Ardently Rosier answered at once, "Absolutely not!" Dumbledore sighed. There was no way of proving that either because Dumbledore couldn't show them or anyone else the void he was seeing in Rosier's mind. And besides, it wasn't viewed as evidence in wizard court.

Dippet looked absolutely spellbound. "Then why….Is there any way you can prove this Dumbledore?!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Armando there is nothing you or I can do to prove it. I only suspect it's preventing the truth from coming out.…But I am sure my speculations are accurate. Dark Magic was performed in the past and with Mr. Rosier's consent."

Dippet's beady eyes looked to the ceiling inanely.

Pringle stalled impetuously. "But you can be sure they were supposed to be in Hogsmeade! They left the village without permission! I suggest I bring them to the dungeons for a whipping."

Dippet spoke up; "Mr. Pringle you've done your part…Any discipline will be imposed on my order alone, and only for the right reasons. Merely leaving Hogsmeade prematurely is not an issue. As long as a student has a signed permission form and was checked off on a visiting day, the act of coming or going is irrelevant. They may leave at their own liberty…whenever."

Pringle's footsteps were loud when he walked out the classroom just then.

Rosier looked a bit more at ease than he'd had a minute ago. Instinctively he looked at Dippet, avoiding Dumbledore. He muttered, "I only went back because I was eager for the feast…It was a mistake…I regret it, for I wouldn't be getting accused right now if I hadn't left…"

Dippet nodded. "Perhaps. But you cannot be exonerated for Dumbledore's summation; You have been associating with Dark magic. Perhaps practicing it yourself…Furthrmore, you attempted to conceal this from me."

Rosier looked like he would like to disagree, but then he realized that would be denying something Dippet was taking as fact and would thus get him in more trouble. Dippet actually shook. He was afraid of the thought of Dark Magic.

"I cannot tolerate this at my school. If you were involved in today's awful scheme it would make sense. I cannot say if you were….Veritaserum is under strict ministry guidelines. I do not want this to go to the ministry…" Dippet shook again. "No…I've failed to get a confession out of you. Dumbledore has done all you can, have you not professor?"

Dumbledore answered morosely, "I'm afraid so…"

"There is nothing more we can do. However, Professor Dumbledore indicated to me there is Dark magic present. And it is the type of magic that requires your will to be imposed in order for the magic to work."

Dumbledore agreed. The type of Dark magic meant either an Unbreakable vow or a powerful sorcerer hiding evil deeds with Rosier's involement.

Rosier straightened up and was now gritting his teeth, waiting for the headmaster to sentence him. "Now I have no qualms about using corporal punishment for performing the Dark Arts. Rest assured if any student performing such spells is caught, they would be caned or worse expelled while I am the headmaster. You will receive four strokes, Mr. Rosier."

Rosier looked mutinous. He felt a rage because he knew he hadn't actually done anything other than join Riddle. But if he started spewing out that, his life would end. Divulging the secret of the Dark Order would break the vows.

*

Later that evening, Dumbledore and Dippet finished questioning the final of the four followers.

"You may return to your common room now," said Dippet gravely, putting down the rattan cane he'd used.

"Yes, sir," mumbled Orion Black.

"Do not leave your dormitory for the rest of the evening," finished Dippet.

Orion Black assented to this and left the classroom quickly, relieved he was no longer under all that pressure. Now it would be his duty to report back to Riddle.

Now that they were alone, Dippet looked to Dumbledore. "There was something else you wanted to tell me in private, wasn't there?"

"Yes, there is Armando. And I beseech you to listen to me at the very least. But what is more vital is action be taken at once."

"Go on, Albus… I'm always ready to listen to you. Your advice has been an invaluable asset to me."

"Then take this precaution: I have not a doubt in my mind that all four of those boys are being controlled. Each played a part in this, I am certain of it. Manipulated by somebody. Somebody knows how to keep the blame from being linked together satisfactorily. Somebody with charisma and an influence. Somebody the boys look to as an authority figure. Even more so than us."

Dippet bit his lip. "Perhaps you're right….But I do hate to think of this Dumbledore! The chamber debacle is over. And thank Merlin! I cannot bear to contend with our students' lives being in peril again."

Dumbledore urged, "Armando…I believe Tom Riddle is behind this. This incident and probably many others over the years."

Dippet's eyes popped and he stopped in his tracks. "Mr. Riddle! Never. The boy…I have grown fond of him…."

"He does associate with these boys in particular…"

And Dippet exploded in denial, and anger, "And so do many other students! We cannot target Mr. Riddle so unfairly when it could be so many others!"

Dumbledore continued, "Even though I'm aware he associates with these students? That Tom Riddle does indeed communicate with each of them and on a regular basis? You will not speak with the boy?"

"When you've supplied not a shred of direct evidence professor! I think not! And besides….Tom is a lonely orphan. He merely desires friends…. And that is purely an innocent thing. I cannot call him in for accruing the possession of friends!"

"Very well…There is no way I could change or even hedge your opinion on him? Is there?"

"No," said Dippet firmly. "Riddle has never caused the slightest trouble here."

Dumbledore looked drained and done. He'd argued his case. He thought of more to say on Riddle. Things like how Tom Riddle probably never wanted a true friend and how Tom Riddle could not have anything innocent in his character. But he knew Armando would never be able to esteem Riddle as the way he truly was.

A moment later, Professor Merrythought came into the room.

"I have good news," said the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher exuberantly. "Somebody found the missing children wandering the corridors! They're not completely unscathed, but otherwise they're safe and sound in the hospital wing!"

And Dumbledore and Dippet left at once to see the children for themselves.

**Note: sorry about putting corporal punishment in this. I do not think it makes the rating go up. I couldn't avoid it really as I didn't want them to have detention.**

I hope you're glad I'm back if you enjoy reading this. I might come back more often now. But I can't promise anything. I hope you like the idea of Riddle planting false memories, extracting real ones. Don't worry, once I get past this Halloween prank, I have more exciting things to tell.


	28. A Nasty Incident 6

**Please review!**

Continuation of:

Chapter Twenty-three: A Nasty Incident

For such a terrifying and harrowing night, the hospital ward was over crowded with a throng of visitors. Family members of the victims milled around the four occupied beds. The Hufflepuff, Timothy Johnson, Ravenclaw, Ciceron Harkiss, Gryffindor, Michael Adders, and Slytherin Muggle-born, Mary Yardley were only just waking up.

"Oh, I gave them each rather high doses of Calming draughts. According to the students that saw them wandering, they had been hysterical," explained Madam Pomfrey. A wizard's eyes gleamed at this and strode over to who must be his son. He was muttering, "If only I knew who would do this to them. If only I knew who did this...."

The children were rubbing their eyes trying to get accustomed to seeing the distorted blurs of people around them in milky rays of candlelight. Madam Pomfrey felt her own nerves going to bits, so she smoothed her apron. Plus her face was smooth, almost a girl's.

"Where am I?" blurted out Mary Yardley suddenly, in a confused daze.

"You're in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, dear. Whatever happened, you're safe now."

Dumbledore was waiting patiently on the sidelines, with Professor Dippet and Professor Slughorn.

Just then Ciceron started spluttering. Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened and she realised what was the matter. She grabbed a clean bedpan and then another. All four children vomited up an acidic mixture, the remains of the candy the Dark Order handed out, which was now unrecognizable debris. But none of the potion was present, and even if it had been, it could not be revealed as to the contents. The halfway stage of the Draught of the Living Dead had long since run its course through their veins.

Another parent panicked and demanded, "What's wrong with them? What are they coughing up!?"

"I don't know," Michael Adders mused, rubbing his stomach, his subconscious was remembering the ache from devouring the candies.

Dumbledore stepped forward and addressed the four young victims. "Me, Professor Dippet and Professor Slughorn need some information from you….Can any of you recall where you were this evening?"

Silence was met and everyone waited. Dumbledore felt a surge of hope and he pressed eagerly, "Even the tiniest detail may help us."

Mary Yardley nodded. "Someone in the halls told us we were sick and we should go straight to Madam Pomfrey….I was scared. So I ran here…."

Mary's body shook, her heart still palpitating, remembering the agonizing terror, but not understanding it. "Where's my mummy? I want her!"

"I'm right here. Oh, Mary!" A woman came forward and knelt beside the bed, holding Mary's hand.

"M-mother? Is that really you mother?" Mary looked at the woman, blonde hair in a bun. She seemed incapable of discerning and recognizing her own mother's features.

"What's happened to her? To them?" The mother asked, looking at Dumbledore.

"It appears they have amnesia. I feel confident it's only temporary. They won't need a place in St. Mungo's."

"And thank heavens for that, or we'd have the ministry storming here," raved Professor Dippet.

Another parent said bitterly, "Well, maybe there should be a ministry enquiry. My child was attacked!"

"I am sorry, but I am sure the ministry will not be interested, unless we have a suitable suspect. We have been unable to find any. I am sorry." Dumbledore had not stopped speaking.

The parents drew around the beds. Dumbledore pressed on rhetorically, "Are you sure, there is nothing you can remember at all?"

"Son, you've got to know something. You went through a horrible ordeal tonight! Who did this to you?!"

And Michael shook his head. He had not a single answer for his father.

The Hufflepuff Timothy finally spoke. He had been the most reticent of them all since they'd been located an hour ago. He took a deep breath, "Cold…It was so dark. And then we went into a void…We were lost. There was nothing at all to remember!"

Slughorn shook his head defeated. "I guess that's everything we can get out of them then. But that can't be accurate. Something happened. Being the Potions Master, I must give my professional opinion. This must have been a powerful, highly concentrated concoction. And it's obvious, given the violent way their bodies reacted."

"I agree," said Dumbledore and Dippet also nodded. "Pardon me, Madam Pomfrey, but I need some space to perform spells of a level beyond your ability. So I shall have to examine them alone as it is a little dangerous if I make a mistake." Dumbledore didn't say it, for he knew the parents didn't deserve anymore fretting, but he knew there was a strong possibility their brains had been permanently damaged.

Madam Pomfrey assented, "Of course, Professor Dumbledore."

Everybody stepped out of the ward for a moment and waited for Dumbledore's diagnosis.

"After examining the contents of their minds…All of them will make a full recovery!"

The parents cheered.

"However I have slightly disappointing news. The First year's memories were grossly tampered with. They have been Confunded regarding the event. Unfortunately, I failed to reverse those spells. Sadly, they will never get to tell us of the horrors this Halloween brought them."

**Note: I'd love if you left a review. The next scene is still part of this chapter, but it will interesting dialogue between Tom and Eileen!! **


	29. A Nasty Incident 7

**Please review!**

Continuation of and final installment of this chapter. I am sorry that I don't update frequently, but unfortunately my muse is very indolent for this story. Plus, I really don't have part three or part four figured out.

**Chapter Twenty-three: A Nasty Incident**

Tom Riddle paced and stalked around the room. Two Slytherins were still in the Common room studying hard for their exams. Eileen watched as Riddle approached them, everything about him conveying authority.

"As a prefect, I must ask you to leave. Professor Slughorn sets the rules for this common room, and one of them is to cease studying past midnight. So to bed. Off you go then."

The two Fifth years grabbed their books. One of them obsequiously intoning to the Prefect, "Yes, sir."

Riddle raised his head a bit higher, looking very dignified, and swept past the two students as they scuttled fearfully away, sensing Riddle's demand for privacy. Riddle remained impassive, by now he was quite accustomed to the deference people regarded him with.

Eileen continued to observe Tom circling the room. Finally he broke the silence once the clock struck midnight. "Where are they?" he asked Eileen very tensely. He was almost to the point of vexed by their absence.

Eileen could not offer a response and so said nothing. She too wondered what happened to her fellow members of the Dark Order. What kind of trouble had they sunk into?

After several minutes of prowling Riddle sat down in a flourish, interlocking his long fingers tightly, hands on the desk. Eileen went to sit beside him.

Until suddenly he spoke again, and Eileen was quite upset, for it implied he didn't want her here with him. "Why are YOU still here?"

"I- er….."

He prompted musingly, "Hmmm? Well, your justification?"

Eileen no longer felt giddy from his snogging of her earlier. She was mature and serious. "I thought everything went well tonight. What's troubling you, My Lord?"

Riddle did not answer at once. Then stated testily, believing it obvious. "Four of my men haven't returned, Eileen. This is a serious complication. Let's just say, hypothetically…somehow they confess and manage to stay alive…" Riddle laughed, shakily, but it was a humorless laugh. They couldn't possibly break their Vows without dying in the process.

Eileen couldn't seem to bear the suspense either. She burst out tensely, "What on earth is that ring for?!"

His hand shook convulsively but then he was restored to calm again, his hand placidly resting on the table, the black stone ring on his middle finger opaque in the candlelight.

"You will not speak of it again, Eileen and you know better than to interrupt me. This token is of no consequence to you. However, I will let you know that is a very significant symbol of your master's bloodline."

Subdued, Eileen hung her head. "Yes, My lord."

At that very moment, Rosier, Avery, Jugson and Orion Black trooped in. Riddle rose at once to his dominnering height over nearly six foot two, his dark eyes glittering ominously.

"What happened?"

Orion Black gaped up at Riddle, Avery sputtered incoherently. Only Rosier and Jugson were courageous enough to explain themselves. "We were hauled in the Headmaster's office for questioning. Dippet was there with Professor Dumbledore, and our Head of House."

Riddle's face drained of colour. Supressing a terrible rage suddenly engulfing him, he asked sleekly, "And what came of it?"

"Nothing, My Lord! We got away. They could not find a trace of evidence leading us to the crime!"

Riddle actually breathed a long sigh of relief. "Good. However, that was much too close a call."

Stupidly Jugson dared to argue with him."But it wasn't our fault. If only Slughorn hadn't shown up when we smeared the message."

"And you didn't think of a Disillushionment charm to hide yourselves with? Excuses are out of the question. This was my operation, afterall. Your Master's engineering, and it was flawless. By blaming yourselves, you insult my ingenuity!…" At these words their eyes widened with surprise and Riddle went on rhetorically speaking. "There was a way for you to remain unseen! You failed to think….Months, years of training as my protegees. One would think a bit of my talents would rub off on you."

Riddle was practically spitting with rage. "Next time you will do better! Will you not, Avery, Rosier, Jugson...and you, young Orion?"

Rosier could intuitively sense Voldemort's imminent punishment coming. "My Lord….Please, I was caned for my mishap-"

Riddle took a step closer to Rosier and leered at him, staring into the boy's eyes, going over every last detail of Rosier's memories of the evening through Legilimency. "Be that as it may, it is not an adequate punishment. Yes, it appears you were caned for being suspected of dabbling in the Dark Arts. However, this does not suffice for endangering my plans!"

The foul feeling of guilt pervaded the atmosphere now. Eileen felt skittish and jumped three feet in the air suddenly. There was an almost supernatural wind in the Common room and all the doors slammed, seemingly of their own accord. Then the air in the room charged, becoming dense. It was Riddle's doing, his wand out, which nobody had noticed in the moments before. He'd cast several powerful spells over the place within seconds.

In the pallor of the dim Common Room, only Riddle's eyes, two burgundy slits could be seen clearly.

"CRUCIO!"

Eileen backed against the wall, instinctively escaping his terrifying wrath. Soon all four of the apprehended followers were emitting agonizing pleas and screams for mercy. The room was locked, and also a powerful muffling charm against outsiders hearing it.

In the dark, musty yellow light, Riddle knelt down slowly, hovering above them.

"You are forever in service to me. You shall be willing to die for me. A few mere welts from a cane is not sacrifice…In fact, one day all of you shall meet your deaths. You desire to have the stamp of my honor? Do you not? Or would you rather die in vain, and betray your Master, the one who has given you so much knowledge, endowed you with power. I, the one who will restore the greatness of the Pureblood race…. You would not dare seek to abandon me. Yes, what would your families say if you disappointed them like you've done to me this evening…."

These were strong words, and the boys did not take them lightly. They glared at each other, in their minds accusing each other of imagined disloyalties. Suddenly, everything seemed to the four followers much worse than it had acutally been. Riddle was cleverly twisting the meaning of the events to suit his own ends and strengthen his cult.

Another moment passed. Then all the followers were dismissed. Riddle remained alone, staring into the dying embers at the fireplace. To Eileen he looked melancholy and perhaps in a way he was.

As quietly as she could she tiptoed up behind him. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and tried to placate him. "My Lord….You should have had me write the message. I would not have failed you."

"You do not know what could have been, Eileen. Have you anything else? If not, I suggest you leave me to my thoughts. You are fortunate Lord Voldemort spared you from punishment." His voice was high and cold. Although he told her this, he knew if he'd noticed Eileen he would not have hesitated to make her suffer.

But Eileen wasn't done. "Tom. Sorry! I meant My Lord….I can feel your powers and your ascension to greatness! Please, I beg of you….Separate me from the others. Being in the Dark Order has made me strong….I love how you know my every thought. I am not the naïve girl of last year…."

Tom was now listening, truly intrigued by her confession. Eileen had somehow succeeded, however inadvertently in manipulating him. She continued, speaking passionately, "And I know your kisses mean nothing really. I want more!"

"Eileen, you are still nothing but a silly girl. You do not what you are asking for….But I warn you. You would not seek pleasure if I subjected you to my….affections."

"No. I could want it. I understand you now and I am yours. There must be pain if I am to love you. So – please….Let me kiss you a chaste good night at the very least. I can't bear to retire tonight to only dream of it! Always you are in my dreams..."

Even Eileen was surprised by her increasing boldness. She wrapped herself around him, leaning her head against his broad shoulder. He pushed her away, not roughly but just enough to spurn her advances.

Riddle left her, fleeing the scene rapidly and heading towards the coolness and privacy of his dormitory. Eileen called desperately after him, "I need you! Without you I will wither! My Lord, come back!"

But Riddle was gone and Eileen was more puzzled than ever by his behaviour. She was the one all alone now, and lonely for his company. Riddle had somehow put a hole in her heart this Halloween night. Eileen's brown eyes filled with tears, stung by his coldness. She thought of his plans for his future Inferi army. What if, she thought with inspiration, Riddle would take her if only she was his corpse. And Eileen, manically and almost driven insane was gone in the head by this thought. She was filled with evil, sickening desires for him, even she could not comprehend. To remedy the situation she'd have to resort to a desperate remedy…..

**NOTE: Finally I am done with this chapter. Please review. Riddle avoided Eileen here because he is afraid of someone he wants real intimacy, emotional intimacy with him. He would never rape Eileen with her knowledge, he knows her too well and she is kind of in his exclusive cult, which excludes her from that treatment. **


	30. Brewing Amortentia

**Please review! I am going to try to work hard on this "Part Two" in the next few months. Expect more updates.**

**Chapter Twenty-four: Brewing Amortentia**

Tom Riddle did not speak to Eileen for over a month. Everytime Eileen tried to make conversation with him; he flat out ignored her. Soon Eileen had given up, as the mere thought of provoking him was too terrifying for her. In the meantime Tom Riddle had succeeded in creating his very first horcrux with the diary. At the so-called "tender" age of sixteen years, young Tom Riddle was essentially immortal.

It was the middle of December now. Tiny snowflakes were falling from a periwinkle sky before dusk, the first snow shower of the season. Inside Slughorn's office the flecks were flitting past the windowsills in a blur, and dozens of conversations droned on, oblivious to the storm brewing outside.

It seemed the entire Slug-club was there, comprised of over fifty students. Slughorn tipped his wand to his throat to make a very important announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen….Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention…."

Slughorn waited with a pleasant smile, as the students loitering around his office gradually grew silent.

"Thank-you. I have some very exciting news to break to you all. In less than three weeks Hogwarts will be hosting a New Year's Eve celebration. It is to be a dance; a ball I believe it is called. All students, that is only the Fifth years and above are invited…."

At this there were some protests of dismay from the younger students of the Potion Master's exclusive club. "That's not fair!" screamed a boy. A First-year Slug-Club girl whined, and stamped her foot. "Professor we WANT to go too!"

"I am sorry. Professor Dippet gets the final word in these matters and he thinks it should only be open to those who are studying hard for the major exams. That is either their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s…..However, by all means if an older student asks you, then you may certainly attend!"

"Now the ball is on New Year's Eve. A Friday night at six o'clock. We have less than three weeks to go, so all of you should start thinking about your dates!"

At this there was excited chatter amongst everyone. Slughorn slipped back into the crowd, swiping a nice full goblet of Chardonnay from a house-elf.

Rookwood hovered nervously around his master in the far corner. Riddle had retreated back there to stop the sudden onslaught of girls. Girls looking at him hopefully, girl batting their lashes, girls everywhere. Clearly he was one of the best catches in the school. He knew he had better find a date soon for Slughorn's party, otherwise they were never going to leave him alone.

"My Lord….The boys want to know if we are allowed to go to the ball. And also may we bring dates?"

"Yes," was all Riddle said.

"Good…Thank-you." Rookwood was genuinely pleased that his master, who rigidly controlled his activities, along with all the followers could go to the New Year's Eve Ball.

Riddle watched Rookwood hurry back into the fold of the crowd and tell the followers they could go and even bring their girlfriends or else ask someone. He saw Rookwood ask out a tall, heavy Seventh year witch, named Walburga Black. She was certainly pure, and wealthy but not the best looking. It seemed Augustus and Walburga would be going together.

It was a tradition for girls to wait at least awhile before they started asking the boys themselves. So Riddle had been free to think about this himself, without having girls pestering him to take them.

Suddenly Riddle knew exactly who would be the perfect girl to display to the entire school and bolster his own reputation. She wasn't very beautiful but she was powerful and smart enough, though not a stellar student.

He saw her mingling with a group by the fireplace, her thick wire-rimmed glasses flashing, behind her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Well, Peonia….I think I'll let my hair down for the occasion. I'm even thinking curlers!"

The girls laughed and squealed their delight, complimenting her on how extraordinary her hair would look down instead of in her usual tightly wound styles.

Riddle interrupted the girls, all eyes for the one he wanted. "How are you, Minerva? Would you like to go to the ball with me?"

All at once Head Girl, Minerva Mcgonagall went quiet, staring at Riddle. She was surprised as were the others, how confidently Riddle has asked, it almost came out as aggressive. "No. I don't think so, Tom. I'm sure you can get somebody else though."

She turned her back on him, trying to forget he was there. "Are you sure, Minerva? Is this your final answer?"

"You're not going to the ball with me. And that's final," she said bitterly.

Riddle left her in a hurry. He was disappointed, as she would have been like a trophy on his arm, that girl. But still none of the other girls in the castle really lived up to a potential like the one that Minerva Mcgonagall.

Meanwhile the rest of his followers procrastinated, too scared to ask anyone just yet.

**NOTE: Okay, so Minerva turned him down. They do have some past history, but I'm afraid I won't be writing that anytime soon. Anyway, I think it obvious Eileen will go with Tom. I promise.**


	31. Brewing Amortentia 2

**Please review! **

**Continuation and final part of….**

**Chapter Twenty-four: Brewing Amortentia**

**Eileen slammed the bathroom door shut; glad she found a convenient place to be alone. Now that all the ingredients were procured, it would not take long to make the potion. Eileen had managed to steal the ingredients from Slughorn's private cupboard. **

**She sat down on the hard floor and popped open a flask, pouring something into the cauldron of boiling water.**

**She took up her stirring rod, but before she could get too far, a transparent figure came floating towards her. Eileen saw this out of the corner of her eye and frowned. She'd forgotten that this had been Myrtle's favourite haunt in life and obviously it had not changed with her death.**

**"Ooh, who are you brewing the love potion for?"**

**"Nobody. Fine, I'll tell you. I'm going to give this to a boy because I want him to take me to the dance."**

**Myrtle's face fell. "A school dance," and she pouted. "I never, ever went to one of those. If only I was living….But nobody would have asked me!"**

**Myrtle started to wail, and Eileen snapped, "Shut-up! I need to concentrate."**

**Myrtle stopped her crying and grinned sheepishly at Eileen. Eileen suddenly felt sorry for her, for look what death had done for her. It had brought her nothing besides a transformation into a ghost.**

**"If you can stop your carrying on and let me make the love potion in peace….I'll talk to you later, Myrtle. Okay?"**

**Myrtle dabbed the non-physical spots on her uniform with a handkerchief and nodded. Eileen consulted behemoth sized tome propped open before her. Her father had sent her, "Encyclopedia of Magical Remedies" by Owl after her request a couple of months earlier in term. Underlining some key phrases she went back to work. **

**"Oh, I almost forgot! How could I," she said after several minutes. Eileen had noticed something on the copious notes she had taken. She had known it would not be an easy feat to create the most powerful love potion in the world. **

**"What did you forget?" asked Myrtle.**

**"To take into consideration the boy's weight. For determining the quantities, it is vital for the potion's efficacy."**

**"Right," said Myrtle with a sour deposition. "Potions and Transfiguration were always my least favourite subjects. I preferred History of Magic, I could remember loads and loads of stuff."**

**"That's nice." Said Eileen, not really listening. But suddenly Eileen had a question, "Myrtle what's it like to be – you know – not living?"**

**"Well…" Myrtle's voice became small and she was whispering. "At first it was scary. Really scary, but then it wasn't so bad." Myrtle laughed, "I'm happy as I'll ever be. Right here in this bathroom."**

**Eileen looked doubtful at this, but decided it would be too much to ask any more probing questions. She felt an enormous sense of guilt, knowing she'd been there when Myrtle was killed and not telling her what had happened. She went back to grinding ingredients with the pestle, and then dumped them, transferring from the mortar into the cauldron. **

**Eileen took out of her robes a small bottle full of a ruby-red liquid. She opened it carefully, and took a couple of sips from it. Cautiously, she checked how many mili-liters were in there, because if she took too much the effects could be lethal. She understood this, but as long as she had the Elixir everything would be fine….**

**Myrtle of course wanted to know what it was. Eileen decided to be honest, who would she tell anyway? "It's an Elixir of Youth."**

**Myrtle chortled away at this, poking a finger at Eileen. Eileen stared back crossly; she did not find this funny. "Ha. Ha. I guess you're afraid to get old before you die!"**

**"Yes," said Eileen calmly. "You were too afraid to die, so you became a ghost. And I am afraid of getting old before I die."**

**It took a couple of hours, but soon enough Eileen had finished the potion, coloured a milky, pearl-white sheen with the characteristic spirals floating up the surface. It would take two weeks to reach enough potency. That was just enough for it to ready in time for the ball. It would be perfect. Riddle would be forced by the Potion to take her to the dance. Eileen knew she was playing with fire, but she had to do this.**

*****

**Eileen was finishing up on her prefect duties for the evening, when she decided to do one last reconnaissance of the Great Hall. She checked the huge double doors leading to the Great Hall; Eileen shivered at the memory of the message sprawled there in blood on Halloween. She felt a horror concerning what Riddle could do to people without their knowledge.**

**All was quiet in the Great Hall. Shards of twilight were beaming in from the great arch windows. There was a peaceful lull about the place. Eileen went to check in on the Staff room. Sometimes students could be up to things in places that they shouldn't be.**

**The Staff room was empty. Eileen softly shut the door and went further down the corridor. She plodded slowly through the cramped Awards room, glad to be alone. The many trophies, certificates, and other accolades shone in the meager light. **

**There was something wrong about the room though. It seemed alive with something Eileen could not see, but she felt it intuitively. And then she heard a resounding, unmistakable creak. Somebody was with her, she just knew it. "That's the same rancorous perfume you wore to class."**

**Eileen gasped, back ramrod straight from adrenaline shooting through her veins. Riddle had appeared literally out of thin air. Apparently, he'd been standing there invisible.**

**"My Lord! – I – Did you finish up your hall monitoring?"**

**"Of course."**

**Eileen moved instinctively around the room. She didn't want to be caught in his traps any more than necessary.**

**Eileen found the situation to be very strange especially when she caught the discrepancy in Riddle's itinerary. "I thought you were doing the South end of the castle. What are you doing here?"**

**"Checking up on your end. That's all." He sounded casual, but Eileen wasn't fooled. Instead she was stiff with fear. **

"**While I'm glad you've noticed my perfume…I'm sure you're aware I wear it to attract you, My Lord. And it is NOT rancorous!"**

**"I was only joking, Eileen. Where is your sense of humour?"**

**She saw something peculiar in Riddle's hands, his long fingers wrapped around a thin vial, filled with a pearly liquid strand.**

**"What- what are you doing with that vial? Why would you bring it to the Trophy room?"**

** Riddle stared down at the vial, held at his midriff as he contemplated it. Eileen could barely breathe, she knew he was on the verge of disclosing something.**

**"It's a memory, Eileen. Did you ever hear of a Pensieve?"**

**"Yes, I do know what one is."**

**Riddle tapped the tube with the sharp nail of his index finger. It made a little clinking sound, which only amplified Eileen's horror at what he said, "Nobody will ever know what I've used this room for. But it's been highly convenient. I've worked my special magic on them, and then recorded all the deeds in this special room!"**

**Eileen quaked and shook. She could keel over this was so unsettling. "What are you talking about - who?"**

**Riddle took a step closer to Eileen, so that they stood with just a couple feet between them. He looked her straight in her eyes, "Girls. Girls. And boys too."**

**Eileen felt anger and disgust. "What – what?"**

**"All of it is stored in the trophy room. And then I take little keepsakes of their belongings. And sometimes I go inside and watch myself with them. What a pleasure it is!"**

**"Just how many girlfriends do you have, Tom?! I mean – My Lord?"**

**Riddle laughed a hollow echo that faded to black in the room and it got it eerily quiet. He whispered manipulatively, "Now don't get jealous, **_**dear**_**. There's nobody you can report this to or otherwise, you'd disobey the Order and die!"**

**"I know. I know, My Lord." Eileen was certainly aware of her Vows and what breaking them meant. **

**For a brief moment Riddle thought of the fact that he had no need for company, other than his servants. Lord Voldemort would never be tethered to another person. He'd always, ultimately be alone. Then Eileen interrupted his thoughts. "Just how many of them have you kissed?" She was desperate for information. She felt like she was being cheated on. But she was learning the hard way that with Lord Voldemort there was nothing to trust and neither did he have an understanding of loyalty. **

**"It's a lot more fun than snogging," stated Riddle bluntly. "And none of them will ever remember what I've done to them!"**

**Emotionless, from shock, she questioned, "You modify their memory?"**

**Riddle nodded quickly. "Eileen – since we've broached the subject, I have something to ask you. No, it as an order. You're going to the ball with me. Lucky girl! As a couple. But only for the night…" he added sternly. He didn't want her getting any ideas that this would be prolonged. **

**Eileen felt dazed, evidently surprised. "Uh – I am? I am!" Her whole outlook had brightened in an instant. "Yes, My Lord."**

**But suddenly the thoughts concerning the Amortentia she had waiting, that she planned to sneak into his meal were coming to the surface of her thoughts. She fought as hard as she could in her mind to fend them off, her eyes narrowing to the floor, as she blushed deeply.**

**The situation was fortuitous enough to fall in Eileen's favour. Riddle didn't look at her again; otherwise he might have discovered her scheme through Legilimency. He started out of the room and Eileen followed behind him. Eileen could hardly comprehend what Riddle had implied to her. It was too horrific to really understand what she'd seen of that memory he held in the glass vial and all that he'd told her.**

*****

**Back in the Common room on another night, Riddle rehashed the day's events with Augustus, Avery and Wilkes. They had all finally managed to get dates to the ball.**

**Avery told them, "Did you hear that Alphard Black kid – you know, the nosy little First year. He had the guts to ask a girl out and she said yes. He's in First year!"**

**The boys laughed, Riddle along with them. **

**Rookwood looked at his master curiously. The others did too. They'd been waiting for awhile now on news on whom Riddle would take to the New Year's Eve Ball. Yet he'd given them nothing to go on until now. Rookwood asked, "My Lord – Who are you taking to the ball?" **

**"Eileen Prince," he said coolly.**

**All three boys looked stupefied with surprise, they had opinions on her and didn't think she was the best girl for their Master. Avery raved, "You could have had anyone – anyone! And you choose, Eileen Prince!"**

**NOTE: The idea of Riddle keeping memories of his sexual victims and storing it in the Trophy room is in my other story, "His Glowing Reputation." Some of you might have noticed. It would be nice, if you could review! **


	32. New Year's Eve Ball

**All I can guarantee is that I can finish Part Two in my lifetime. This is obviously the middle of part Two. There is Part 3 (the Seventh year) but the plot isn't nearly as compelling, which is why I am reluctant to progress. Hopefully, I'll have more ideas for Part 3. If you have any hopes or suggestions for this story, I'd love to hear them. I apologize and understand completely if you lose interest in the story.**

**Chapter Twenty-five: New Year's Eve Ball **

After a fortnight the Amortentia was potent. Eileen felt sure that the potion was efficacious. But lacking of confidence that he would actually take it unwittingly was her problem. If she got caught…. She'd never succeed in doing this again.

Then she remembered hearing a rumor. Within the sanctum of the Dark Order followers were discussing the hints Riddle dropped of himself undergoing a transformation. But nobody understood what this transformation actually meant. Of course it was the horcruxes, as by now Voldemort had already created two of them.

It was dinnertime and Eileen still had not drawn the courage to slip the Amortentia. Tom Riddle was paying her no mind. And here she was, sitting right across from him with the perfect opportunity presenting itself.

Perhaps she should use a Confundus Charm? Who was she kidding? She could never use that on Lord Voldemort, and she was too terrified to even contemplate it.

"Confundus…Confundus…" Eileen murmured under her breath with her wand hidden in the folds of her robes. But it was not onto Riddle that she directed these spells. Instead it was to the students in their immediate surroundings.

Now she had several people confused and luckily Riddle wasn't talking to anybody this evening. Nobody would notice if she took his goblet. But then again, he was sitting there right in front of her. She couldn't just swipe his flagon full of pumpkin juice and not expect a complaint.

Most fortuitously, Riddle rifled through the dragon-hide briefcase he owned, evidently searching for something. Eileen's heart rate jumped. This was the only chance she might get for weeks.

In her determination her hands shook whilst producing a Wandless summoning charm. His goblet dangled precariously over the table, where it hovered silently. And what was better, Tom had not noticed!

Grabbing the golden cup, she took the liberty to pour the potion from the phial, into the goblet. Mother of pearl, pink-sheened liquid streamed in and mixed with the orange until the pink potion hid so that it looked like regular Pumpkin juice.

Eileen sighed with relief, withdrawing her hands from the table and resting them placidly in her lap. But her heart pounded. Riddle was like a shark, which can detect an erratic heartbeat for miles. And right now, those unusually keen instincts knew something was amiss.

He looked up sharply from his neatly labeled Astronomy charts. Eileen held her breath, but outwardly her exterior conveyed no apprehensions. She kept her pale face blank, a calm persona.

Riddle's nostrils flared as if he was really a snake smelling fear. And Eileen watched the dark eyes rove in his head, quickly scanning the territory.

And Riddle went back to his dinner and attacked his meal with unusual gusto. It appeared to Eileen that Riddle had not noticed a thing!

She watched him place his hand over the goblet. And yet it was the unseen things that Eileen was oblivious to.

She watched Riddle cup his alabaster, smooth hand around the goblet. Boredly tracing the rim, he pretended to be mulishly fixated on a private thought.

Eileen was still watching and it seemed definite that within moments he'd be sipping the Amortentia spiked Pumpkin juice! Yet in actuality Riddle just conjured a Wandless Vanishing charm, and every last drop of the contents disappeared.

He was left now with an empty goblet. But no matter. He simply used the Charm to materialize some more pumpkin juice from the jug to his goblet.

And next, Riddle made a great show of drinking. He downed his new Pumpkin Juice in one gulp and smacked his full lips.

Eileen grew more and more astounded as she watched Riddle's reaction. If only she knew he was acting, and that there would be no reaction.

"How do you feel, Tom? You – er - You don't look yourself this evening."

Eileen thought she sounded convincing, as she tried to avoid his eyes, knowing he could do Legilimency.

Riddle continued to play it up. "Nothing special. Same. As ever."

And he watched Eileen's face go from excitement to great disappointment. Riddle beamed. It was a wide smile. He was mildly amused by her ignorance and was amused this hurt her.

Eileen frowned back, looking strange. Was the Amortentia actually working? Probably not. She saw none of the expected symptoms. And Eileen was no fool; she was privy to this knowledge, after all her father was the best Healer in the country.

That day Eileen became more frightened by her findings, and the repercussions of what it all meant to her relationship with Tom Riddle. Why hadn't he reacted to her last resort, especially it being the most powerful love potion in the world? She pondered the news circulating within the Dark Order. Their gang leader told one of them about a recent transformation. Eileen thought this must be the reason there was no reaction. She promised herself to go searching the library for clues.

**NOTE: Sorry it's been awhile. But the mechanics of this love-potion ploy was hard to figure out. And yes, Eileen will learn some of the truth. Soon, I will explain HOW Riddle knew Eileen had slipped him a love-potion. It really isn't that hard to explain. And just to let you know, in my opinion if Voldemort at any age was given a love-potion, he would not feel love. Only obsession and infatuation. If he had drunk this, things would actually be much worse for poor Eileen. So be happy he didn't take it.**


	33. New Year's Eve Ball 2

**Please review!**

**Continuation of….**

**Chapter Twenty-five: New Year's Eve Ball**

Hundreds of ornamental baubles replaced the candlesticks under the sky in the Great Hall. Slughorn had made sure the Christmas evergreen trees remained. And furthermore, with Dippet's permission, Slughorn hired a crew to erect a special, temporary edifice in the courtyard.

Once Christmas ended anticipation for the upcoming ball reached fever pitch. Students who had always been catty and flirtatious acted even more so.

Reception started at six o'clock and would last an hour until the grand opening. Riddle stood alone without his date. Eileen was late for reception. But luckily Riddle's cohorts surrounded him as usual. He waited by a suit of armor, a medieval knight standing sentry at the entrance. This knight was busy singing, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

Riddle drowned it out, and instead listened to Walburga Black, Rookwood's long-time girlfriend.

"You know Augie, I think it will be better than that Yule Hogwarts had two years go….Don't you?" she crooned.

"I – Yes. Why not?" Rookwood answered.

"It better. Mother went to a soiree in France. I declined my invite for this," snapped the wealthy Pureblood witch irritably.

Riddle raised a brow and looked down for a second, thinking. He was vaguely reminded of his strong resentment at not being raised in a Pureblood home. For one thing, it nettled him that he had no personal key into Gringotts. But there were other ways to rectify these things. His followers for one….

And a group of them were making their way over right now. And behind, several feet away in the periphery was a gaggle of girls, apparently their dates. They told the girls to wait whilst they shared something private with their "friend" Tom Riddle. And indeed they did have a momentous gesture planned.

It was the two Lestrange brothers along with Avery. Rookwood shifted on his feet nervously, with a look of great expectation. Riddle merely observed to see what would happen. For he was expecting something.

"My Lord – as your most loyal comrades – we wish to honor your coming of age with a gift."

Riddle waited, raising his head up slightly.

And Avery took out a trim parcel in gold foil. He presented it to Riddle who took it. Slowly Riddle unwrapped his birthday present.

A look of pleasure came across his face. The gold wrapping revealed a handsome fob watch. Riddle studied it closely, holding it up and opening it.

Rookwood commented, with his date as the only outsider listening. "It's tradition for Pureblood wizards to receive a pocket watch when they turn seventeen."

"Yes. Thank-you," said Voldemort calmly. "This pleases me greatly." And in some sense it did truly satisfy him.

Riddle wound the watch deftly with his fingertips. The watch was carved on the outside with intricate designs. The face inside featured the planets and the moon cycles, and nearest stars. Riddle of course understood the mechanisms of how it worked to tell time, amongst other things the watch could do.

"Well congratulations, My Lord," chimed in Avery. "And this party should be great."

And it was indeed ironic that on the very day the worst Dark wizard of all time becomes an adult, Hogwarts was hosting a grand celebration.

From the main staircase in the distance, Riddle spotted Eileen Prince making her debut, descending the marble steps. At once Riddle snapped his watch shut and put attached it to his waistcoat under his robes. He made his way over to Eileen and waited primly by the statue of the giant boar.

All around them people started to rave, whisper and comment about how extraordinary Eileen looked. Even Riddle was stunned. It was a most remarkable transformation.

A Hufflepuff girl noted to her friends, "Prince was like an ugly duckling last year…Look! She's turned into a swan."

"Yes, she looks lovely" a different student simpered.

Riddle's mouth parted slightly in shock. Eileen was simply gorgeous. She was resplendent in ivory satin robes, and crystal earrings drooped beside her black hair done-up in elegant ringlets. It was much better than Walburga's ridiculous ivy wreath. For all her frippery and finery Walburga hadn't done much with herself.

Riddle was suddenly seeing Eileen with news eyes. She was worthy, even a viable catch for him. He no longer held a single doubt at choosing her for his date. He'd make sure she was the belle of the ball.

Most ominously, Eileen wasn't wearing the glittering green opal necklace; the very jewel Tom gave her last summer that had belonged to Riddle's grandmother. Instead she wore a long pearl band.

Riddle gained his bearings and stopped gaping. He had a twisted, but very pleased smile on his handsome face. Tom of course had undergone a transformation, but it was one that could not be detected.

Eileen gushed to see him standing there, so proper and waiting all for her. He looked more dashing than ever. Tall, and donning black dress-robes with a high vicar-like collar that made his appearance ever the more impressive. A white bow tie at his neck and a white waistcoat below his slim waist where a silver pocket watch gleamed. He had done himself up with great finesse, and she could smell his rich cologne.

His dark eyes almost sparkled. But the glimmer was no more than budding desire.

"Ah, Eileen. Good evening."

He took her hand gently and kissed it with devotion. Eileen mewled with pleasure at his slight gesture of affection. She felt like she could melt from happiness. And she loved the feeling of his lips brushing against her skin. Tonight for Eileen it was a real treat and an honor to be Tom's date.

Riddle proffered his arm for Eileen to take. Arm in arm they strutted to the front of the queue, waiting to go in the Great Hall. It was nearly time. The Head Girl and boy would be making an entrance together and Riddle made sure to get in line right behind them. Nobody dared to object when Riddle cut ahead of everyone.

They waited for a few minutes, milling about with the others chattering from jitters and nerves at the idea of dancing with their partners. Some goblins marched around. They had been hired to help as well, but only after practically extorting Hogwarts to pay them a hefty sum of gold. The clarion call of trumpets played by goblins announced the onset of the ball. The high oak doors swung open, as if on it's own accord.

**NOTE: Please review. A lot will happen at the ball.**


	34. New Year's Eve Ball 3

**Please review or at least rate! I know it's been awhile, but life gets busy…I can't make any promises, like politicians do all the time…well I'm not a liar. I have no idea when I will update next.**

**Continuation of….**

Chapter Thirty-seven: New Years Eve Ball

It was truly an enchanting evening. Eileen and Tom strode triumphantly down the aisle, along with the rest of the long queue. The Great Hall was barely recognizable.

Immediately music took up and everyone stood and watched the Head Boy and Head Girl take the first dance together. However, they were not each other's dates, it was just for ceremony.

Riddle did his best to conceal the particular brand of jealously. That should have been he and Minerva! If only he was a year older to be in Minerva's class and he would be Head Boy today, and not have to wait. For surely next year Dippet would make him Head Boy. But the feelings subsided as Riddle forced these thoughts from his mind.

The students and staff of Hogwarts enjoyed a decadent dinner, whilst the Wizarding band played easygoing, happy tunes. And there was big bowls of fruit punch at the buffet tables, with loads of silver champagne bottles, a special drink for the New Year's Eve Ball. The gargoyles near the windows spouted water and ice filled the buckets from above. Usually they were lit by fire.

During the meal most of the boys gave their dates flowers. Eileen looked to Riddle expectantly. In a flash, revealed seemingly out of nowhere came a simple bouquet. The gesture reminded her of last Christmas. Riddle had given her flowers then too but she took them anyway.

But Eileen remained unsatisfied. She glared at Riddle. He watched her, not curiously. His dark eyes slanted leisurely as if he didn't care if she enjoyed the evening.

However he still remarked matter-of-factly on it. "You are not happy…. And here we are at the grandest of Hogwarts galas...." Riddle's handsome features twitched with bemusement. "On the very night I turn seventeen and lose my Trace and you are miserable to be with me? How can this be so?"

Eileen refused to answer but there was a disapproving look on her thin face. "Let's join the others and dance...Please, Tom?"

Riddle turned his head and looked on reluctantly towards the throng. To him they looked like some sort contorted glob of maniacs. It was simple ballroom dancing and he did not care whether he joined in. Uncomplicated enough it was.

Riddle rose and took Eileen's elbow.

She stumbled out onto the floor, holding tight to the fold of Riddle's dressrobes. Despite Riddle's reluctance to dance, he proved to be one of the most graceful on the scene. Eileen was a bit mollified that he could excel at this too. Was there anything he couldn't be top at? Well she'd never seen him play Quidditch! She almost laughed at the thought of him on a broom, and avoided catching his eye, lest he might read her thoughts.

Eileen got a glimpse of herself in the mirrors surrounding the walls. What she saw she believed was like a goddess, but it was herself. She was downright beautiful tonight and looked good even on Tom's arm (who was the most handsome boy in the room).

Her hair was pulled high in elegant ringlets and it glistened like the blue wings of a raven's feathers. Her ivory dress sparkled and she loved how it twirled as they maneuvered across the floor.

Towards the end of the third song, Eileen sensed a change come over her date. Tom was suddenly flighty and eager to finish. Eileen was surprised as Riddle's cohort, Rabastan Lestrange had not finished dancing with his date, Druella Rosier.

"Come...There is something we must discuss. Now."

Riddle led her back towards the tables. If not dancing, people were eating delicious deserts.

Riddle lead her past the tables to the very back, near the door that led to the Room of Rewards, located behind where the staff tables are normally fixed.

"Tom wait! I want to have some gingerbread!"

"You may. Later. First we are going to talk."

They stopped under the huge canopy of evergreen trees, stretching high to the ceiling above. The trees were so close it felt like they were melded together. It gave Eileen an uncomfortable feeling. The trees were too close.

In the distance the music picked up tandem; a wild Irish gig. She saw Professor Dumbledore dancing madly with himself. Eileen could have laughed aloud if Riddle had not been present.

Languorously his dark eyes swiveled to Eileen backed in the corner under a heavy bough of needles. She hadn't noticed till then how very handsome those eyes of his really were. Of course, all of this was before they would turn immutably red with pitiless slits for pupils.

But something haunting lurked in their expression, even now. They were just as pitiless as they would be, years and years after his seventeenth.

"We're going to talk….About Stephanie and – Ruby is it?"

Eileen's eyes widened in consternation, her mouth forming a near-comical "O."

"Yes. Your roommates have become imperative to reaching a little understanding between us. Don't you think?" Riddle's voice was sweet, he did not sound angry. Yet the tone he took was absolutely unnerving.

"No. I don't believe so. Tom, what in Merlin's big toe are you talking about?!"

"Stuff that I've done."

"What stuff?"

"I've taken a liking to that witch, Stephanie. Very interesting girl. I found the company and the conversation most intriguing."

Even Eileen could detect the sarcasm that she had so often overlooked in the past. But there was also a nugget of truth.

"Well whatever it was. It must have been special," said Eileen, slightly envious. "Especially for you to waste your time with her." Eileen did her best to sound cold and brusque.

Riddle stepped forward and turned more menacing than before. He breathed down her scantly cut dress and Eileen felt her body temperature plummet drastically.

"Oh, yes….She was well worth my time."

"What did you d-do?"

"Things you'll never know of and never hear about! And probably- you could never conceive of them…Such horrors your innocent mind could not ponder it."

Something turned in her stomach again and she felt sick. Instinctively she glanced towards the entrance to the Room of Rewards. Just a few weeks back she'd found Tom Riddle tampering with the trophies. Was this another secret and was there a correlation between the two?

So she couldn't help looking in that direction.

"Very silly girl was astonished I could ever want her. Especially after you blabbed to them I was your boyfriend! Lies! Such lies, Eileen….But I got what I wanted in the end. I know those things now that I needed to know before…What do you think I seeked her out for?"

"I-I something to do with me?"

"Yes! I've put your dear roommates under the Imperius curse. Can you guess what led me to this?"

"Um- I get it. I do….You wanted them to report to you! You used them as your spies."

"Excellent. Very intelligent…You guessed exactly. However, consider this Eileen…I already know all about you. Your deepest fears, desires and dreams and even what you dread. But recently I knew you were keeping something secret. And when I discovered what it was, why it astounded even me!"

Riddle became unnaturally quiet and whispered, "Love potions."

Eileen turned white, simply terrified. All colour from dancing left her narrow cheeks.

And because he so enjoyed the fear cloud her face he said it again.

Eileen bowed her head in shame and felt weak. She wasn't strong enough to serve her lord. And worse, she'd displeased him tonight.

"Foolish little brat! I've known of the plan for weeks. I thought asking you to the ball would derail you from trying – but in the end you still dared – dared to give me-"

Riddle could not bear to admit it even here alone with a follower. The gesture reminded him of his derelict mother who gave his muggle father Amortentia. His hand lashed out and gripped a sapling, knuckles whitening. He suddenly looked to be in an odd, terrible anguish.

Eileen meanwhile, shrunk further still. Tears came to her eyes, stinging the pupils. She sniffled back a sob. But instead the waft of evergreen trees was inhaled. Most painfully she was reminded of what the piney scent stood for. To Eileen, they reminded her of home and of Riddle, because recently one of the scents from the potion had been evergreen.

A confession squeaked out, huddled for refuge against the shrubbery. "My lord! I couldn't believe it when you asked me! I am happy you did. But I heard you asked out another girl. What happened with Minerva Mcgonagall?"

"Minerva…," sneered Riddle and went on as if she was just a meaningless afterthought. "Minerva and I…We have a history. But the Head Girl had much too much gumption for me. But you- you'll never be a match for that witch. She does have extraordinary skill…."

Eileen forced the tears away, and tremulously burst, "So do I!"

Most unromantically Riddle tugged on a fistful of white berries - mistletoe. They crumbled and oozed from his hand, a sickly muck on the floor.

And he rallied again, goading Eileen with the blow he knew would hurt most. "Your bungled attempt to woo me…was one of the most pathetic things I've ever heard of. It puts you," and Riddle's eyes flashed with almost hatred. He was remembering the father of his whom he killed last July. "It puts you as low as the muggles."

Eileen burst out with a fresh sob. His insinuations were really hitting home. "How dare you! I'm Pureblood – I'm a Prince."

Eileen forced herself to hold her head up and shaking, managed to evince a façade of graciousness.

"So of course your scheme was a fiasco. Love potions won't work on me. For-"

"Love potions can affect anybody! Even muggles-"

"Ah, but not myself. For I am much, much greater than any living wizard....and soon I shall be greater than any wizard in history."

Eileen gulped, realising it was true. A terrifying feeling of mystique came to her. How could he be unsusceptible to a love potion? But in reality Riddle had exaggerated, even lied about this. He knew he could be affected by love potions....

And the decision was made to tell Eileen more. "There would be no outcome. Nothing! Except perhaps a sordid infatuation!....I've hurt your roommates Eileen....Would you like this to be for you? Do you wish to become a harlot?....As my whore?"

"NO!"

Riddle bent down and traced his roughly padded tongue against the fibers of loose tendrils of black hair. He had whispered this into her ear and now he kissed there, practically biting the lobes.

As he moved, his new pocket watch swung outward and hung before his waistcoat. Leaning closer, he grabbed the pearl necklace.

Riddle did not wish to cause a scene, but his anger was rising so that he almost did. The anger coursing through his veins, pounded his whole body and he'd like nothing more than to shatter the necklace.

Eileen felt unusual bravery peak in her. She sensed it was probably because unlike the other encounters with Riddle, this time they were not completely alone. He couldn't force her here to do anything and he couldn't hurt her.

"I'm glad I'm not wearing that-that collar you gave me last summer! I prefer pearls before swine!"

Riddle was slightly familiar with the phrase too, as he'd heard it in the orphanage. It was a muggle saying, which did not help to cool his temper.

His grip tightened over the pearls and the tip of his wand flashed forward. Smoothly the necklace unclasped and was pocketed in his waistcoat, next to the fob watch.

Eileen's face crumpled. It had been her mother's. Marie Prince would be asking for it surely whenever she saw her daughter next.

"I expect to see those gems- the opals shining on your neck every day."

"Yes my Lord." Tears streaked her alabaster cheeks, staining the fine powder make-up. "I promise. But please give it back."

But Riddle would not. It was over. Eileen forced to wipe the tears away and took out a handkerchief.

Tom and Eileen returned to dancing. Riddle picked up the magically appearing top hats everybody was wearing. She hated how masterful he was at giving the appearance that tonight they were a happy couple.

It no longer felt like they were treading on the air like on floating clouds. It was more like skating on ice with the knowledge that it would crack and she would freeze and drown if she didn't get out of this relationship.

Once satisfied the aura of contentment was displayed to the people, Riddle went to sit with his quarry at the small circular tables. He invited Eileen to come along but she flatly refused.

Eileen went to sit by Stephanie and Ruby who ignored her. She saw Riddle from the other table, his eyes shifted in her direction. She waited for it to happen again. But Riddle did not look again. He was engrossed with talking to his boys, the members of the cult.

And then Eileen noticed that the future Death Eaters were giving her resentful glances. Were they upset she danced with Riddle? How could they possibly be jealous? She was a girl. The only girl ever to be in the Dark Order. It was perfectly proper for him to take her as his date. But Eileen would never understand the intimacy they felt for their master.

Eileen managed to forget herself too and strike up a dance with a scrawny First-year. She'd asked him if he was gate-crashing. His date had abandoned him too, deciding he was too young. For awhile young Alphard Black danced with Eileen.

But later on she felt another pull to her elbow. "Eileen...let's go out."

Riddle's tone was clearly conveying this was not the time to argue. She must obey instantly.

She told Alphard a hasty good night. And Riddle and Eileen rapidly departed the scene. The giant clock in the tower was about to strike midnight. The New Year was about to ring in, but she wouldn't be in the merry, mirthful crowd. She'd ring in the New Year alone with him. Alone with Lord Voldemort.

Together, as he took her clammy hand they raced outside, trying to beat the clock it seemed to outsiders. The heels of Eileen's slippers clacked loudly against the pavement.

**  
NOTE: Don't worry. Riddle is NOT going to crucio Eileen next. I have something more original that they've never done. I will try to update sooner. Last year I was working on other projects, which I've finished. Feel free to complain, as long as I get a review!**


	35. New Year's Eve Ball 4

**Please review! I am also trying to improve my writing of this story, as I think I put too much explanation and too much he/she phrases, which annoy me. **

**Continuation of....**

**Chapter Thirty-seven: New Year's Eve Ball**

"We won't go far…"

Eileen listened to the coaxing words, Riddle's reassurance. She'd never noticed how melodious he was, especially for a boy's voice.

The last moments of the year were dying, but a new one was about to be born. Fireworks went off over Hogwarts, temporarily lighting the castle's exterior, flashing like lightning bolts.

Eileen was comfortable in the borrowed fur coat that was her mother's. The coat matched the silken ivory dressrobes perfectly. Inside a magically magnified purse was a matching hat and a muff. Unlike last Christmas, she need not seek refuge under Riddle's cloak.

He strode with cold purpose and led the way heading straight towards the edifice, arranged by Professor Slughorn for the party. The sounds from the Great Hall were barely discernable from here, just an echo on the breeze.

Eileen didn't like it, but so far she was relieved this was all. She long learned to expect the worst from Tom Riddle, and the worst had not come to pass. He was not taking the most torturous punitive measure there was: the Cruciatus…Not yet at least.

It was deserted. Lingering younger students peeping in on the ball had been caught just a little while ago. All the others crowded into the warm hall, to revel together for the impending countdown to twelve, midnight.

Riddle stopped and turned to Eileen. They stopped in their tracks almost at the same second. Through the dark, she saw fathomless eyes. He was so tall and impressive in a heavy traveling cloak.

"Take my hand…"

"Thank-you, My Lord."

Eileen noted the politeness and emoted approval for acting the part of gentleman. But Riddle had another reason for holding her.

They stood sentient, side by side inside the gazebo on a raised plinth in the center. The radiant effulgence from the fairies that nested in the surrounding bushes was a comfort. The place was well lit. Alone they may be, but there wasn't anything strange or dangerous about it.

Eileen breathed hard, heart pounding with anticipation. The great clock chimed twelve times. It was the dawn of the New Year: 1944. This was the year, which would make Tom Riddle the Head Boy and both of them Seventh Years in September.

It quieted again, the commotion barely discernable. Somebody closed the giant oaken doors with a resounding thud.

Eileen took to gazing ahead, beyond the gazebo. As the gazebo was on the summit of a hill, the pastoral countryside was visible. The mountains, beyond even the Dark Forest were jet-black.

Surreptitiously, Riddle slid his hand down to his hips. There he found the pocket holding his wand. Eileen turned just then and frowned at it. "I knew it! Why take me out here? It wasn't to ring in the New Year."

Riddle did not answer. There was no need.

"Tonight when we danced I watched us and the others through the mirrors along the side…."

Eileen nodded knowledgeably, understanding. There had been a series of mirrors surrounding the dance floor.

"And as I observed…I was reminded of a celebration," Riddle's affect was disturbing.

"Celebrations are traditionally for the living. A celebration of death would have been quite appropriate. It is after all the night the Wizard who conquered death came of age."

Eileen did not believe what she was hearing. Nobody could ever conquer death. It was impossible. His long fingers curled over his wand, almost stroking it. He was thinking of horcruxes. He'd already succeeded in making two, a feat nobody had ever done, and certainly not whilst underage. One was the ring with his muggle father and the diary with the death of his grandfather. And as always worn these days, the black stone ring was prominent on his middle finger.

In a second Riddle decided what he would do. "Detritus," he muttered under his breath.

"Keep your wits about you. You have nothing to fear."

Eileen tried to get a grip on herself. She squeezed Riddle's hand.

And his other hand held the wand that was bursting forth stream after stream of varying, shimmering lights. Soon Eileen surmised that they were spells he must have performed in the past.

They stood grounded to the planked floor in the gazebo. Lights burst forth, an oddity in the surrounding velvety darkness.

The extended Detritus was suspended at one particular set of spells. Sparkling green spewed out. Three human-like bodies emerged out of the thin wand. They glided, floating. They were huge and white, like ethereal, wispy ghosts. They screeched violently, screams like they were dying. It was of pain, the screams piteous. The fairies and their lights departed, repulsed by the hideous display.

Eileen violently attempted wrenching her hand free of Riddle's. A wild urge to run away was all she wanted to do. But he wouldn't let go.

In desperation she implored, "Oh, what is it? What is it? Your Inferi?"

Riddle laughed gleefully. "Oh, no. These are pale imitations of the ones I had the pleasure to kill. You cannot trace the evidence of my murders."

Eileen screamed at this revelation, joining the figures. The figures grew more frightened, studying Riddle. Did they have the awareness to know this was their killer? Meanwhile, Riddle was enjoying the stimulation, like entertainment.

It was almost a carousel out of a horror show. The conjured hosts circled, swirling faster and faster, a macabre dance with death. It was playing on Eileen's darkest fears. Who didn't fear death at least just a little? Like a lullaby the beings whispered words she could not make out. They seemed to be conversing with Riddle, yet he did not care.

"Can you feel the bodies around you? Can you?!"

Eileen in her terror didn't even register what he'd said. And Riddle continued to enjoy it hugely.

Eyes widened, Eileen got a closer look at the three figures. One was a profile of a handsome man, just like Riddle only an older, aged version of him. Another was a very old gentleman with wiry, gray hair and papery skin. The final was an old lady wearing a necklace.

All of them were made of pure, silvery light, no details to their appearance other than a crude outline, mere shadows of what they'd been in life. Eileen would never know the woman wore the same opal necklace she received last summer. Riddle had of course, removed it from the corpse and proceeded to Stonewall Estate to bestow it to Eileen as a so-called gift.

The "ghosts" that so terrified Eileen addressed her next. And Eileen never felt closer to the world of the dead and further from the living than she did in these moments.

"Be careful girly," spoke the woman first, her voice echoed as though at a great distance. She was Riddle's paternal grandmother.

"He'll get you, just like he got me!" ranted the handsome one. It was Tom Riddle Senior, Voldemort's father. Yet Eileen did not know. His essence seemed familiar in the sense of being egotistical. It wasn't far off the mark from Voldemort's persona.

Voldemort's eyes widened maliciously, until they burned red and like amber beams they fixated onto the father he hated. In truth he was shocked and almost frightened that they could speak!

"He killed us," said the eldest man authoritatively, speaking at once for himself along with both his wife and son. " But the police found our bodies and we're buried in our rightful place. You keep away from him, girl, ya' hear? He's a monster."

Riddle had had enough. At once the images faded away and he ended the spell that regurgitated the prior ones.

Eileen dropped feebly to the ground. She shook uncontrollably with fear. The whispers of the dead still haunted her mind. Meanwhile, Riddle cleared the air of the powerful magic. Nobody would detect that this place had known hundreds of spells over such a brief period.

Riddle was unsympathetic to her plight. Eileen was forced on her feet, legs wobbling. It took a moment to become composed again.

Livid at what Riddle had done, and of all he showed of it, she had the nerve to strike his shoulder. "Why did you show me that? What was the point, I mean?"

Riddle was not going to tell her and he barely reacted to the minor blow. There really was no reason than curiosity in seeing what the Detritus spell would do with his murders, mixed with false joy at watching another's fear. Especially as he most secretly feared the dead.

"No harm done. The phantoms could never hurt you."

Eileen calmed at hearing an explanation, and expelling some confusion. "Is that what they were?"

Riddle had no answer. There was no name for what had occurred other than Dark magic. It was one of those esoteric unknown mysteries of the Dark Arts.

"Well…I won't want to ever go out alone with you if you scare me like that again! Why the hell did you show me it for?"

In an instant Riddle turned physical, practically pouncing Eileen's skinny frame. He grabbed her shoulders, and inside rage boiled, he wanted to shake her. He had control, and she was going to stop this challenging attitude at once.

"Listen! I let you in the Dark Order. You made an Unbreakable vow to serve and obey! This "contract" shall not be abated unless I decide to kill you OR if you die by other means. Therefore…You do as I command for the rest of your life."

** Eileen looked at him, so twisted with fury as he held her body close. He was wearing the hood of the cloak now. It framed his handsome face so he looked as serpentine as a hooded snake, rearing itself to assail her.**

She could feel the heat of his anger radiating. So she took to mollify it. "Yes, My Lord. I understand. I owe unswerving obedience to you…forever."

**NOTE: Please review. I found this to be better written than the average passage of this story. I hope you enjoyed that. **


	36. New Year's Eve Ball 5

**Please review!**

**Continuation and final passage of:**

**Chapter Thirty-seven: New Year's Eve Ball**

** It had been rumoured that someone brought billywigs to the New Year's Eve Ball. **

** Ruby took a share in the spoils of the party. With a concealed bag she went back to her dorm, and spread it all out on the bedclothes.**

** Eileen was already there, lying lugubriously in her own bed. Her face was crushed against the pillow. It looked as if she'd been having a hard cry.**

** "What happened to you?" Ruby asked with minor concern.**

** Stephanie, sounding jealous rallied, "Yes. Looks to me that you enjoyed yourself with **_him_**! I only wish it could've been me."**

** Ruby tossed aside the drugs and put them on her nightstand instead. It looked like she didn't want to take them.**

** "You can have them, if you want Eileen," she offered nicely. "You sure look like you need a pick me up! Don't you?"**

** Eileen was too speechless to answer. But with her puffy black eyes, she tried to convey some thanks in her rueful demeanor. **

** Stephanie gave the room a final sweeping look. She turned and spoke over her shoulder. "Well, I'm out. To see Tom!"**

** "Ooh! What for?" gushed Ruby excitedly. **

** But Eileen's shrill moan and the fateful words interrupted both of them. "Nooooo…. Stephanie don't see him anymore! He'll-He'll hurt you. Riddle only cares for himself."**

** Stephanie laughed hysterically. "He's a nice guy," and then waved a hand carelessly. "Never hurt a fly….And you're not yourself today…So shut-it!"**

** Eileen didn't give up. She never knew to possess such bravado until this morning. "I-I care about you! Stephanie listen to me! Please!"**

** But the girl was gone immediately after Eileen finished. She was already off to see Tom Riddle who probably didn't really wish to see her anyway. **

** Ruby who had been unusually kind now gave Eileen a nasty look. Clearly she had not liked what Eileen said to her best friend.**

** Moments later Eileen was alone again. Conveniently the nightstand was next to Eileen's bedside also. She reached for the bag. Vivid and sapphire-blue, the billywigs shone luminescent in the morning light, coming from the drawn curtains.**

** Eileen started on one. With her wand she flicked it awake. The billywig began to spin and fly in circles round Eileen's head.**

** Its spin was so languid that even Eileen caught its wings on top of its domed little head easily. She held out her left wrist and allowed the pestilential little creature to sting her wrist like a bee. It was as painful as a needle, only hurting for a second or two.**

** And then the pleasurable sensations started. She could forget reality and the situation. They were just like the wizard form for LSD.**

** Next she took two more billywigs and stuck them inside her ear cavities. Her face screwed up and tears stained her face as smoke came out like incense. **

** She suddenly remembered her real pain and sobbed uncontrollably. And then the unusual high started – a peak in her mood, all from the billywigs.**

** Eileen laughed with manic fervor. It was a humorless sound, almost insane. This was what Tom Riddle and being apart of the Dark Order drove her to. **

** Within minutes Eileen lost consciousness and floated to the ceiling. The billywigs, as expected, made her levitate. She would remain up there for several hours. Then later she would come down again. **

** But Eileen felt like she needed to inject them. She couldn't stop and soon she'd be up near the ceiling again, in a deep sleep as her head spun wild, yet wonderful dreams. Until the dreams turned ugly. Then she'd be stuck in dark, fearful nightmares. **

** Eileen didn't finish the bag until the holidays were almost over. Her roommates did little to stop this activity. They saw it as Eileen's choice. Furthermore, they didn't want her company. **

**And Tom Riddle found out about Eileen Prince, apparently spending the remainder of holidays alone, addicted to billywigs. She'd lain quiescent in the girls' dorms for days. He and some "friends" from the Dark Order had a hearty laugh upon hearing the tale…..**

**NOTE: Billywigs exist in canon. I read about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. The next chapter is really good, I promise. **


	37. In the Hog's Head Inn

**Please review! I am very excited to have reached this chapter. The story is taking a different turn. Finally, I am up to the scene that will change everything for Eileen. This is some clever intrigue, I hope you like it. For what they're plotting shall change her life forever….and Riddle has been thinking of this since he visited Eileen's home in July. **

**Chapter Thirty-eight: In the Hog's Head Inn**

Aberforth Dumbledore, the tavern keeper was busy even on a cold and gusty February. Students from the school were here today for yet another Hogsmeade visit. It was not unusual to find over seventeens coming just to boast about getting into the bar. Finally getting able to see it's interior, after all those years of wanting to, they discovered it was quite the dingy, even a dodgy atmosphere, and perhaps not such an exciting pub for young people. All but to a very different sort of young people….

The law that no underage wizards could come in didn't matter to these youngsters. For they had another's laws to abide by. The two of the scoundrels that were underage (the younger Lestrange boy and Macnair) entered invisible, evading the shrunken heads.

Over tankards of ale they whispered in dark corners. Seven of the thirteen were present, donning great hooded veils, as always is the fashion in the Hog's Head. The only one who appeared absent was their gang leader. Yet he'd chosen to remain unseen, in a way Avery and Macnair's best Disillushionment charms couldn't top.

They seemed alone and nobody was going to listen. Riddle already instructed not to talk in detail about the plan until the others arrived and they got the room he bought for this day. So they milled about, clustering around the sawdust filled benches, clasping tankards of strong Ale.

After a few moments, the other veiled witches and wizards gave up paying even the slightest notice. The words coming from the boys' mouths, under their veils were perfectly banal. An outsider would have no way to determine what they were talking about.

"I want to procure goods from the Hog's Head's cartel! They're famous for poisons here!"

At that exclamation, heads turned, swiveling back on their stools.

"Keep your voice down, Macnair" admonished Antonin Dolohov sharply.

"We are here for one objective," spoke Riddle detached, but stern. It was eerie how its source could not be placed, but nobody could place the voice, when seven figures were huddled together with their visages covered in veils.

Riddle checked his fob watch and spoke in a carefully controlled low voice. "They should be here soon. He was told to show at one and to bring a person of his choosing."

A fleeting stab of rage passed through the young man. He had brought half his organization out for important business. It would be a grievous mistake for any man to deny their end of a bargain when made with Lord Voldemort.

The two Lestrange brothers were the quietest, staring into space meditatively. It seemed they were contemplating something huge and daunting. Travers was momentarily distracted. "My Lord," he whispered. Travers felt around and nudged Riddle in the elbow. "My Lord – Shall we get you something? Don't you desire a vat for yourself?"

Riddle ignored this. He did not need a drink. For now he wanted but one thing. He must concentrate solely on it. It was a selfish goal. He believed he must see it succeed against all odds.

"He will come," finished Riddle firmly as if stating it aloud could make it truer.

Rookwood was staring mulishly into his ale. He seemed deeply troubled. "Prince? Miss Prince, My lord. Does she know?"

Riddle paused and shot a look across the room. Strangely enough the bartender, whom Riddle was aware of being Professor Dumbledore's brother, stared right where Riddle stood, almost as if he could see him. Aberforth was wiping a glass longer than necessary. Riddle watched and then jarring laughter broke from above, low enough to be constrained for mainly the boys to hear. "No."

"May she ever learn of it? Will she ever know the truth? She is a part of our fraternity-"

There was a loud clink of cutlery, the bartender putting away some utensils to be washed. Riddle cut across brusquely, "No. I am telling you no. I don't want her to know….that it was us."

Whatever they were discussing, the Dark Order clearly understood what they were keeping from Eileen.

And Macnair scoffed, "And where's Prince off to?"

"Madam Puddifoots." Riddle promised he'd be there later.

**NOTE: Please review! More will be coming soon.**


	38. In the Hog's Head Inn 2

**Please review!**

Continuation of….

Chapter Thirty-eight: In the Hog's Head Inn

The two men entered the pub, their eyes adjusting from violent rays outside to the dimness indoors.

"We're here for a sting operation. Yes," said the taller of the two men, obscured by a heavy veil. His voice sounded like something corrupted, foul, and his breath under his cloak if one got close enough, might have smelled like sulphur. He'd just entered the Hog's Head, buzzing with activity, and reeking of vomited mead and rotten dragon tendrils.

So many bodies occupied the space; it was difficult to discern his quarry from the fray. It could be any number of the small groups flocked together.

"I suppose you've got the ministry in on this?" said the shorter of the two, thinking he was clever. "You know, to get the ones running the illegal business arrested…and finally put away in Azkaban?"

"We have," the taller wizard answered with strong conviction in regards to his colleague's question. But the truth was he'd unwittingly led his co-worker for another reason, as this was no sting operation against the poison cartel. They were here for an entirely different matter. And he refrained from adding that personally he felt the poison cartel was something he did not wish to see disappear. Even though it was against the law.

"Now we need to work cloak and dagger if we're to get anything done today…. I've got to find our friends."

"I know, Smith. Of course!"

Riddle heard the name Smith and his eyes darted immediately to the two standing closest to the door near the stairs.

"They're here. Let's go."

And Riddle, as lithe as a panther made his way, still invisible, the line of seven veiled figures going up behind him.

"Good afternoon," said Rookwood pleasantly. "We're here to see you Mr. Smith. Our master rented room six."

Mr. Smith nodded curtly.

Everybody started up the rickety stairs and onto the first landing where the last room down the corridor waited. Riddle was looking forward to the privacy of the room and being interlocutor for the two parties, finally brought together.

Aberforth Dumbledore made haste to the stairs and got between them. It was quite brave of him as they made a rowdy procession.

"Are all of you going in the same room? I don't generally allow this!"

Riddle still unseen pushed Aberforth, but it did nothing to stop the innkeeper. "Old man! Out of the way," sneered Riddle.

"This is my building," bellowed Aberforth. "I've got to know what's going on up there. Perhaps if I come with you?"

The boys protested loudly, shouts of no coming in every direction and demands to be treated fairly as trusted customers.

Riddle's voice cut clearly over them, with the most acerbic remark. He knew instantly the one thing that would silence Aberforth. "Do you wish to get implicated for illegal charms? We know all about your beloved pastime with goats!"

Riddle laughed, throatily and drily. The others joined with vicious mirth.

Aberforth of course wasn't sure who exactly was speaking.

"Keep your fat-mouth shut," said Rabastan Lestrange determinedly, the last one to pass Aberforth on his way up. Rabastan gave him a shove.

And Aberforth shrugged his shoulders in defeat and walked away.  
Somebody emerged out of the end of the corridor, laden down with child and another child hanging off her hip.

Seraphimus strode the fastest, Riddle unseen behind him. "Madam are you ready to leave?"

"My husband has not returned," she spoke demurely. "We'll be here a few more hours. Then we'll go home. I just want to use the loo."

But nobody listened. All the followers came inside and took over the room that she wanted to keep for a little while longer. The woman suddenly became more argumentative and showed some gall.

She sprung back in the room after the others. "Excuse me! I'm staying for an extended time, I'm afraid…"

"Get out," said one of the followers.

"No! My children need this place. We have not packed. I am not ready."

The door slammed shut seemingly of it's own accord. The woman, still clutching her small girl, ran for the door. It was locked.

"Let me out! So I can tell Mr. Dumbledore and he'll decide! Let us go, now!"

Banging issued from the recently bolted door. Aberforth demanded, "What the bloody hell's going on in there?!"

The woman opened her mouth to complain. But Riddle was quicker, an unseen force of agility, he grabbed her from behind, holding her mouth shut.

Aberforth was threatening to blast open the door with a hex.

Riddle took his wand out and pointed it at the woman's throat whispering, "You tell him that you're fine. Just fine. Refuse to speak, and the child won't see tomorrow! Hurry up.... Mr. Dumbledore is coming!"

The witch knew that the wand was meant as a threat to kill and she guessed it probably wasn't an empty threat. She steadied herself, trembling and saw the complacent smile of the painting on the wall. A frail ginger-haired girl not much different from her own. She must comply for the sake of the life of her daughter.

The hands clamped on her mouth released, giving her the chance to speak. But the cool wand still rested over her artery. The child – a girl of only four had been quiet, watching her mother being threatened with rapt terror. Now she began to cry, the most irritating clamor that only a child can sound successfully.

Aberforth, luckily hesitated to force the door open. He did not care to see a baby in the throes of a tantrum. He'd seen enough of those types of rages before.

"Hurry before he's here," Riddle spoke with jocularity. It was humor that was cruel to the core. "Tell him!"

The woman did a better than expected job at feigning composure. "There's nothing the matter, Mr. Dumbledore. I'm changing my baby is all. We'll be out an' gone 'fore nightfall!"

There was a soft sweeping sound as Aberforth's robes swished away down the hall. The unseen threat released their wand.

The child's bright eyes were full of tears and she screamed.

"Silencio!"

Meanwhile, the other Healer who had been tricked into coming was observing the encounter with great suspicion. He cocked his head and looked around at the disguised figures wondering at the identities behind them. And the painting of Ariana Dumbledore smiled serenely as if mocking the scene.

The woman was still angry of course. "May I go now? My husband could return any minute. Soon he's fetches us, I'll be on me way....I'll be fine to see the last of you nasty lot!"

"No. You won't," said Riddle calmly. He had finally revealed himself, a strikingly handsome youth, almost out of place in such austere lodgings.

"My Lord – surely if we modify her memory-"

"She will stay. Her husband has not returned. Make yourself comfortable, Madam. We shall not harm your child - Or you yourself. Sit and relax."

Riddle smiled broadly and gestured to the bed. The woman sat on the edge, rocking her child who sat on her lap, clinging to her robes.

Riddle explained it to the others, "This is the best way. When we're finished, her husband will suspect nothing. And…it looks as if we never used the room. Convenient, isn't it?" Riddle meant that the woman and her family would sign out, the woman would be Confunded and Riddle need never sign in.

The others, including the Healer, Seraphimus Smith nodded slowly. Only the unwitting Healer, not in on the plan looked bewildered. And the witch silently hoped that whatever was going to happen, it'd soon be over.

They quickly secured the room with enchantments, guarding against eavesdroppers. And they silenced the mother with the same spell used on the little girl. Neither would be permitted to talk.

Finally making themselves at ease they discarded their veils, and cloaks.

**NOTE: Please review.**


	39. In the Hog's Head Inn 3

**Please review! This is a challenging chapter, and I had to go slow. But frankly anything involving Voldemort has to be brilliant and is very difficult to write. Plus, I'm going back to school in September, and I don't know if I'll be able to keep going as I a real-life job too.**

Continuation and final passage of:  


****

Chapter Thirty-eight: In the Hog's Head Inn

The others settled in by transfiguring chairs into existence. Meanwhile, Seraphimus Smith and Tom Riddle shook hands like formal partners from long ago. Some of the followers gaped at the alliance, wondering its origin.

"What has made our paths cross again, Riddle?" This was asked by Mr. Smith in almost a chummy manner.

""I always knew it was inevitable that I would need your assistance again." ." His voice was smooth and congenial. Voldemort was quickly getting into his element, his most persuasive mode. "You are too veritable a source of magical healing to overlook…You should take it as a compliment, Seraphimus."

Seraphimus was frowning darkly. He did not thank Riddle for praising his Wizardry and the work done at St. Mungo's Ward for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Riddle swiftly took the initiative and harangued over the meeting. "Seraphimus Smith as I understand it is the contender in line to be next Chief Healer. Is this the truth that I speak?"

Seraphimus conferred with this question in the affirmative. " I want that power...I have always strived to be the leader."

"So you see, Mr. Smith has a goal and we will help him succeed. His ideology differs with the current Chief Healer. In fact, his goal is in juxtaposition to the future I desire for all Witches and Wizards. That is why we shall usurp him for you, Seraphimus, and for the Dark Order and thus benefit all Magick kind. The current Chief Healer...Graham Prince shall be permanently abdicated!"

It was a grandiose idea and the follower's grew alight with excitement. Only Seraphimus twirled his mustache, looking twice as seedy as usual. And the other Healer shifted on his heels, looking to disagree. Seraphimus regarded his colleague, wearing the same dark frown.

The other Healer caught his eyes and burst out in spite of himself, "You lied to me! Smith, you are a knave and a trickster and I shan't have a thing to do with this!"

Riddle glared down at him but said nothing. He wanted Seraphimus to talk.

"You're right, I lied," said Seraphimus hollowly. "We haven't come to dismantle the poison trade..." and Smith grew agitated. "But I want nothing more than seeing Graham dead! I will get what I want."

But the other Healer remained fractious.

Seraphimus said, "You and I are getting paid up front, Clark!"

Clark, the unwilling one shook his head. "It's not worth getting caught for! Blow my whole career for a sac of galleons."

Although remaining as affable as he was with Seraphimus, Riddle's eyes flickered like a snake's. "Mr. Smith was told to bring an extra accomplice: you. This has already been preordained. It is a contractual net of agreements. Fail to adhere….and let's just say your life is not indispensable to us." And for added effect, Riddle looked around at all the people backing him. It really was an impressive show of support.

Clark gulped loudly, his Adam's apple bobbing. And he stared up at Riddle, galvanized. "Blimey! You're just a boy to me, son!"

"He's seventeen. And believe me he, knows what we're asking you to two to do," said Wilkes loyally. "He is of age, as are most of us present."

"Still a young man…How can someone so young be so powerful?!"

Riddle paused and said nothing, but anger was under the surface, piercing white-hot rage. It was more powerful, if he did not reveal his emotions or use force to persuade Clark. Even Voldemort understood that willing obedience is better than forced dictating. "So then, will you help us? Will you help us remove Graham from the power he should not have gotten to wield in the first place?"

Clark looked around and suddenly realized his own life would be in terrible jeopardy if he refused to assist. He could care less for his friend, Graham Prince at the moment. And so pathetically, stirred by fear, croaked assent.

The activity around the room shifted immediately. Seraphimus sat down, fingering a long, rectangular box, silver and gilded.

"Fancy a smoke, Tom?"

Keeping one for himself, he handed the box over to Riddle. He surprisingly took a cigar, and also by a flick of the wand, multiplied the quantity magically. Voldemort seldom smoked. Only at social engagements when it was called for.

Each of the followers had one. The room filled with vapory green smoke. And the witch with her girl sat silently, tears streaming down their faces, staring morosely at the smiling Ariana.

Seraphimus sat at ease, puffing on his cigar, cheeks bulging with evidentiary pleasure. "I think he suspects…Graham knows his life's been threatened. It's been like this for years…but still he never gave up working…Slaving tirelessly for his ridiculous cause. So he must die."

"Rabastan Lestrange is the one who shall do it," said Riddle with calm control. "You are proud of your pureblood ancestry, as we all are. We cannot tolerate him either."

"Prince! I can't believe Prince is Pureblood!" yelled Seraphimus. "The way he treats patients – especially the Mudbloods he caters to…he's even pressing legislation for muggles harmed by magic. He thinks muggles should be treated at the ward! Twisted bastard. Belongs in Bedlam….He's shaken up the hospital. And has influence in the ministry…Prince has stooped as low as a Blood-traitor, I'm afraid. I don't consider him Pure anymore."

"So I've heard in the Daily Prophet," said Rodolphus darkly. "He's a rabid iconoclast in direct opposition to Wizarding law! There's even been talk that he broke the Statute of Secrecy."

"Yes, that could happen. And Prince received in the last months an endless slew of mendacious acclaim. Mr. Prince is not worthy of this praise, he seeks," said Riddle.

Seraphimus interacted, speaking solely to Tom. "His wife runs the Ministry's treasury. It's been easy – too easy for Graham to change things. And when I say change, I mean for the worst. Graham is quite possibly the worst thing that ever happened to St. Mungo's!"

The other Healer had the tact to stay quiet. Yet he didn't believe Graham to be a problem. In the short time Graham was appointed Chief Healer, Clark had seen him do wonderful things for the Healing profession, all with a great sense of teamwork.

Riddle pursed his full lips, a disgruntled look. He took up his cigar letting out a long drag. It was as if it could unwind his thoughts and released them. The neat ringlet of green smoke curled, and exhaling, he spoke. "Rabastan will flee the scene of the crime. It is Rabastan Lestrange who will do it. I've spoken to him already," Voldemort indicated Rabastan sitting beside Riddle's sofa. "He agrees. Rabastan knows he aspires diligently to serve his master…by taking up the mantle through the killing of Graham Prince he proves himself viable, worthy to me. Indeed, this will be the first human being he killed…I could do it myself….No, it is your time. You shall take up the mantle. And Lestrange, when he is dead, I shall honor you above all others!"

Rabastan Lestrange would snuff out the life like candlelight, through use of the Killing curse. Rabastan acted like a zealous believer, emboldened and driven to subsume himself, and glad to do it with others present, for giving him this duty seemed to prove that Voldemort had the most faith in him, and that he was the best follower. The elder Lestrange brother dropped to his knees, onto the floor, bowed until his head reached the floorboards, like an earnest house-elf. "Master – th-thank-you! I shall be simply ebullient to get whatever reward is in it. You will not be disappointed!"

Rabastan raised his head, and looked gleefully at Tom, to where he sat above, legs outstretched. Naturally pleased, Riddle reclined back on the sofa and looked pensive again. One hand to his brow, the other puffed more on the cigar. It was startling, how at ease even Voldemort was for a dangerous mission, that a follower had to ask a realistic question.

"But m-my Lord," said Dolohov tremulously. "St. Mungo's has high security measures, right? How can Lestrange breech security? I suggest the Floo Network when he infiltrates the place!"

Riddle shook his head. "The floo network need not be utilized for the assassination. There are means of bypassing it completely. You will see in a moment, after I explain. The ministry's control of the fireplaces matters not when it comes to us. And so, I tell you everything…"

It was startling how much he believed the plan could not backfire, a hubris emanated off him. Everybody leaned in, fixed to learn how it would transpire.

A House-elf apparated in the room, creating a momentary distraction. The little creature was bearing a silver and gold decanter along with glasses and a bottle. The elf busied itself.

Traipsing to Riddle at the sofa, he handed a full glass personally to the man who was obviously leader.

"Excellent." Riddle meanly poked the elf with the end of his cigar, still inflamed. It burned a hole in his tea-cozy and he jumped about a foot in the air.

"The room where it happens will be purported empty. Mr. Smith's connexions with the place make it easy...The death will surely undermine the ward's security." Riddle took a leisurely sip of the wine, taking longer than usual, to keep the anticipation. Only Clark refused drink. His expression was mottled with disgust and tinged green. The conspiring, and the construing of the plan to kill Graham made him visibly ill. And the House-elf disapparated downstairs. He paid no heed to what was going on. These wizards were a race set apart from his, his superiors, his masters.

"Rabastan it will be easy to enter completely undetected. You will be on Polyjuice potion...," Riddle paused and slyly looked towards the Healers. Seraphimus, who never missed a twitch from Tom Riddle felt rising anger. He knew he could not trust him. Smith understood just how dangerous this young wizard was, having dealt with Tom a few years ago.

Riddle went on to explain a back-up to the possibility of the potion wearing off before the act was complete. If so, Rabastan would wear his mask and hood before his departure.

"And to confuse the facts, we do have a decoy. Seraphimus is going to plant this poison. This poison will seem to be the cause of Prince's demise. The phial says Dittany, so that people believe Graham didn't know he was handling poison until it was too late."

Seraphimus took the phial, falsely called 'Dittany.' "Certainly, Riddle. This is perfect to cover up the crime!"

Rabastan added, "Of course, I will kill him with my wand! The Avada Kedavra. I hope it is quick." The man to actually do it, shuddered at the thought of becoming a killer. The fact that he hadn't actually killed anyone yet, was the last shred of innocence to his character.

"Seraphimus understands. When the poison is put in the room, before Lestrange enters...It will draw attention away from the real culprit: my servant. This way, I remain in the shadows. The engine behind it, pulling the strings. However, most unfortunately for me, it is an illustrious murder. And as for Graham, he will lose his legacy as the 'Mudblood Healer'. He will slip into obscurity. But one day, one day the name of the Dark Lord who kills all those who dare deviate from the natural order...Will be known."

"You will be watching, My lord?" Rabastan did not sound as confident.

"There is a way to monitor things without breeching security... without actually being there..." Riddle thought of his time in the Junior Healer program when he was a Third and Fourth year. This was when he had first met Seraphimus Smith, they had been enemies then, but the contact proved useful today. He had a "friend" from high places.

Tom keenly observed his follower, and at once saw the trepidation present in the mind of Rabastan. He was not going to be fearless when he killed Graham. "You will kill him, or I punish you, doing my worst. For who am I? A rising Dark wizard, the next, the greatest Dark Lord... I am like the sleeping dragon of Hogwarts, capable of killing and more if provoked. If you fail the lives of your own will matter less...and later I'd discard you like a child does an old rag doll!"

"Yes, my Lord. You will be watching me, this relieves me from some of the pressure. Knowing you shall see it!"

The followers all understood that in a few years when Riddle left Hogwarts, all of them would be asked to kill regularly. They would asked to do terrible things...and if they didn't, they would die.

These thoughts only spurred Riddle on. Licking his lips with greedy relish, the thought of homicide seemed to arouse appetite. The droplets oozed from his chin, like droplets of blood.

"My Lord," said Macnair tentatively, and he indicated the wine dribbling to his collar, staining it. A careless brush of the hand and the wine wiped away, but Riddle did nothing to remove the stain.

"And Seraphimus, I promise you may get that promotion to Chief Healer!"

"It is I who is the next in line," he answered back, almost sullen. Seraphimus was not the type who needed encouragement.

They clareted all afternoon. The wine was as red as the blood that would spill with the Chief Healer's death, which they drank to, the booze sloshing down their gullets. The wine was dark, and evinced no light. A couple of times it appeared that Riddle's eyes flashed as red as the wine.

Riddle rose from the sofa. He paced the room with a mercurial gait, going up and down past his followers. Healer Clark watched the boy with fascination, his eyes widened with horror. He was fascinated by this young man's mystique. Who was the boy really? He seemed so much more than human.

But Clark wasn't happy that Riddle now focused on him, finally. After all why let himself in on it? What was he useful for? He was about to find out, and it was definitely a discomforting position for the unwilling accomplice.

Minutes later, he was in a heated argument. Riddle had finished explaining Rabastan's role.

Riddle turned to the window and spoke distantly, detached. "We are not framing you, Clark. Nobody is going to be framed. They will never discover who penetrated St. Mungo's, nor will they learn who it was that assailed Graham. That is true whether they think it poison or the Avada Kedavra."

"But if the imposter is caught while under Polyjuice...They will believe it was me that killed my co-worker!"

"That will not happen," said Riddle rigidly. "My follower flees the scene. And Prince dies a quiet, easy death! The ward remains undisturbed."

Clark shook his head.

Like a gust of wind Riddle moved to Clark aggressively, holding a long clear vial. "Further insubordination will result in disposing of you today....Not I personally, but one of my henchmen will finish you, if you'd like!"

Some of the followers shivered, wondering who would be asked to kill if things went that far.

Clark screamed, "NO! You won't kill me."

"Then give us a lock of your hair."

Clark took his wand to his head, his hand shaking. He was sweating. But he managed to extract some hairs and Riddle scooped it into the vial.

Riddle smiled, satisfied and put it away for safe-keeping. He looked around, clearly about to close the negotiation.

"You take me for a fool! You best not double-cross me," said Seraphimus selfishly.

"Ah, yes. You will receive your money now, Mr. Smith. It's like a fortune to you isn't it? 100 galleons added to your vault. Perhaps it will help put food on the table?"

Seraphimus's looked more venal than ever, his stained teeth glinting with an ingratiating grimace. "You jest with me, Tom! I'm a wealthy man. But greedy I may be, and I must gain from the endeavour!"

The sac of galleons was given to both of them each getting a stipend for their help. It came from the Lestrange's vault. Riddle had an ugly expression, it was a longing jealousy for money, and his own Gringotts account.

Almost violently the gang pounced on Clark. He was scared when they stripped him of his lime-green uniform, even taking the badge, a bone crossed with a wand. Rabastan would need it when disguised as Clark on duty. But soon enough they duplicated the outfit and Clark was in his clothes. It was done that way because the spell could not duplicate a garment that someone wore while the spell is being performed.

From the periphery Riddle spied Clark in denial of events. Before this meeting would end, he performed Legilimency. Voldemort already knew that every ounce of Seraphimus wanted to see Graham dead, and he needn't worry of Smith squealing.

Riddle addressed the situation at once. "You will take a Vow of silence for me, Clark. My terms are thus: You will not breath a word of what deliberated here...," Riddle paused and considered more just in case there were loopholes. "You will not do anything that obstructs our plans. If you go against us, the breaking of the vow results in your death. Do you understand?"

Clark looked tortured. "The Unbreakable vow? Please don't make me make one of those!"

Travers said brazenly, "You, Sir cannot be trusted!"

Riddle didn't listen, but gave his orders instead. "Seraphimus you as his fellow colleague will take part in it. I will be bonder!"

And so Clark made took a vow to never tell and to swear he would continue to offer whatever help might be asked to carry it out. The shining gold bands that formed around Smith and Clark, sealed his fate.

Seraphimus and Tom said goodbye together. Voldemort couldn't help but add, "These days, I am the  
greater adversary...Even greater than you once were when I was a boy who barely possessed the skill to win against you in a duel. My powers far exceed your own."

Smith looked liked he tasted something rancid. He spat, "Most likely." Although Smith was sure Riddle was right.

They shook hands again. Smith gave a final look at all the young men clustered around. "It was smooth business, for such a bold undertaking. Good day gentlemen!"

A wave of his hand and Smith shot from the room, Clark gleefully in retreat behind him.

"Now we deal with the woman...Apparently she has heard everything...."

All of them glided straight to the bed where the woman and little girl, still sat propped on the coverlet, unable to speak.

Riddle decided out of curiosity to life the Silencio spell off them. Luckily the little girl didn't scream again. She just watched Riddle with doleful eyes, scared and wild looking. But the woman stared down Riddle in her anger and spoke.

"You have no regard for life! No regard for life, all of you!" And she spat on the floor, at Riddle's feet. Instantly several of them whipped their wands out, inching to do hexes and jinxes and worse.

"Death is the enemy. We seek to control it," said Rookwood. "How about a silent Cruciatus, give her an idea who she's talking back to?"

"Don't bother," said Riddle.

"What?" Said Dolohov incredulously. "She's insulting you, My lord! Let me teach her!"

"We will spare her from harm. Lord Voldemort is merciful. She and the child may go from this place unharmed. However, she must leave in ignorance."

Wand out, Riddle pointed it between the woman's eyes. Bravely, she fixated them onto Riddle, daring him to attack. The woman would do anything to save her daughter, and more than ready to put up a fight.

"You will forget everything you saw and heard in this room this afternoon. You will have no memory that a murder was plotted. You will not remember any of the names connected to this. Go home peacefully with your family. Go home, put your daughter to bed and go straight to bed as well."

The woman's eyes slanted and became glassy. The Confundus charm had been performed. Amazingly she followed the words and blindly got up and grabbed her luggage and shuffled out the door, with her daughter. But as she went out the door the little girl let out a tormented sob, finally released of the shackles of fear she had felt while those strange people were talking of things she couldn't fully understand or verbalize. And of course nobody would believe a three-year-old.

Over the coming weeks Riddle repeated the plan to the Dark Order until they had it memorized verbatim. The day of the operation would be soon, just a few weeks away. They need hardly think for themselves.

Now Riddle went off alone, disappearing into the village teeming with students. His followers were left free to do what they wanted now. It was another diabolical plan coming to ascension, this time targeting those closest to Eileen. And now he had promised a light dinner at Madam Puddifoot's.

**NOTE: Yes, they are plotting the death of Eileen's father! I hope you guys remembered that Graham is her father! This will change Eileen's life forever. I will let you know that Eileen will discover eventually that Voldemort orchestrated her dad's murder, but it won't be for a while…possibly she won't find out until her Seventh year....**


	40. Madam Puddifoot's

**Please review! **

**Chapter Thirty-nine: Madam Puddifoot's**

For over an hour, Eileen crouched in the crowded teashop without a date. She was sadly coming to the conclusion that Tom had stood her up. She was glad nobody cared to notice the lack of companionship, as she was in the very back corner, like a propped up wallflower. At least freed from prying glances.

She was absolutely flummoxed by Riddle's no-show. He was one of the most punctilious people she knew. Furthermore, he'd seldom ever arrived late for class in over five years of their magical training together. This was most unlike him, and it made her wonder....

For Eileen it was a bleak and gloomy winter. Riddle had been distant since the New Year. Eileen could not regret her idiotic behavior more! Why did she believe a love potion scheme could work on him?!

The only time they briefly conversed was at Dark Order meetings and those were not the one-on-one attention she'd come to crave from the most handsome, powerful boy in the school. Eileen knew he was special and believed it still. She must dote on him, and let him know his time at Hogwarts would be whispered through the halls for centuries to come!

It was this that kept her from leaving Madam Puddifoot's. Eyes downcast she waited, crestfallen with silent disappointment. And she clutched the opal necklace he commanded her to wear everyday. It was like her lifeline, the one thing that was proof that Riddle thought her special. Her fingers clung to it.

And just as quick as he could be absent, he was present as if coming from nowhere. In the centre of everything. Many girls glanced hopefully in his direction. Eileen could have melted to watch him stride over. It was like he had eyes only for Eileen.

"You'll have to accept my apologies. So sorry to have nearly ruined your birthday, Eileen. I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

Eileen didn't pout, though part of her wanted to. At once Riddle swooped down, bending to plant a kiss and playfully his beautiful hand caressed the black locks framing the girl's thin, angular face. The Elixir shaped Eileen's features, making them more feminine and curved. She no longer had the dour appearance, the stringy hair or slightly beaky nose. That had long since been eradicated and Riddle knew it wouldn't embarrass him too much to be sitting with this girl in the most romantic venue for a Hogwarts student.

"A happy seventeenth, sweetheart. May you live to see many more. You look beautiful!"

Eileen could have cried. He'd never been this kind!

"Oh, Tom!" she gushed, almost going gaga. Before he could sit down, she didn't let it happen. She grabbed his heavy, woolen robes and nuzzled against them, breathing in his musky, worldly scent.

Riddle allowed this gesture but then gently pried her fingers away, and finished by giving a pat on the head, like she was a reformed child.

A woman in vibrant red almost lurid robes in honor of St. Valentine's Day came by. "And what can I get for you two?

Riddle ordered for both him and Eileen, and said each would content with the same. The woman raised a brow to see the boy order for his date, as if Eileen had no opinion. Eileen looked to Madam Puddifoot and nodded assent. Eileen's tacit consent made sense; after all she was subsuming herself to her master, the cult leader. But the waitress could not possibly know this of course.

The waitress's heels clicked away scant dress swirling, hips swaying. Riddle's eyes lingered, Eileen saw it, and was infuriated.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she surveyed Tom darkly. "You must have something up your sleeve. I wish it involved me. What is it that you've been doing?"

Ever since her passing addiction to billiwigs, Eileen had crashed. But now that her obsession was present, she'd soon change her deposition. With each passing moment she was becoming happy again.

And Riddle was answering Eileen's question honestly. "Well, you may indeed ask that Eileen!" he said charismatically. "Unfortunately all of my projects have been unrelated to you…"

Riddle became darker and smiled at Eileen. "Upon reflection however…last year you were useful. Very useful to me. I thank-you. Always remain in my favour. That is all that I ask, and you know this. Don't you darling?"

"Yes, Tom," conceded Eileen dreamily.

"Good… said Riddle quietly. "Ah I almost forgot! Your birthday gift and more!"

Riddle took out a plainly wrapped box, in cream coloured paper. "But before your present…Rookwood made you some more."

Two vials. One was a potion, the Elixir of Youth. And the other contained a mysterious single strand of hair.

Eileen's eyes grew round. Innocently she countered, "But what's that vial with the hair? Oh, are you making Polyjuice Potion, Tom?"

Riddle did not even hesitate, but his saucy mouth curved with a slight guffaw. "Yes. You clever girl!" It was ironic. If only she knew what that hair stood for, to help in the plan to kill her father!

Riddle put the vial away, the real secret being concealed, and gave the other vial full of the Elixir of Youth to Eileen.

"May I open my present? I can't wait. Please, Tom!"

"Of course, of course you may," he relented at once.

It was no ordinary present. It was in fact, a highly prized magical object. Yet simple with it's purpose. It was nothing but a small, wooden chest.

Eileen held it delicately in her hand and was glad to see that there were flowers and a birthday card with a valentine inside. "Thank-you, My Lord," she whispered.

Eileen studied the box, trying to sense if there was magic.

"It has a powerful curse on it. I made it so that only you can peruse the contents without suffering. And of course myself…"

Eileen smiled with dawning understanding. "You mean…Only you and I can share the box's secrets? That's wonderful, Tom."

"I thought the strongbox would come in handy as a member of the Dark Order."

This was true. And years from now, the box would be one of Eileen's most prized possessions on Spinner's End. And Eileen understood that she could conceal things from all but Voldemort, the maker of the object's curse.

Their food arrived. Eileen busied herself by cheerfully stirring a rod in her teacup. Next, she poured an ounce of the Elixir in and stirred, still wearing a chimerical smile. If only she knew that one day she'd be deprived of the Elixir and what that would entail.

With tea, Tom and Eileen celebrated the birthday and the holiday with scones filled with Devonshire cream. As they ate, two golden cherubs flew past and threw heart-shaped confetti at them and the other couples.

Eileen soon tired of the food and drink, and cradled the warmth emanating from the teacup in her hands. It was a comfort to commune with Riddle for the first time in such a while.

And then Riddle's hand stretched out across the table, and he grabbed her. Eileen was actually sitting in Madam Puddifoot's surrounded by happy couples, holding Tom Riddle's hand at the tea-table trestle. It was strange to be sharing a time of such emotional intensity with him, when he'd been cold to her since January.

Riddle massaged her hand, fondling it. Eileen giggled like mad. Riddle played with this some more, happily thinking of the thought that her father would soon be dead.

"You seem so happy today, Tom….Joyful even."

"I am." Riddle slapped his knee jovially. "Now come sit…. Just this once, I don't care if the others see me." He meant he didn't care this time if they saw him with a girl.

So Eileen went there, perched on the edge of his lap and helped herself to another scone with Devonshire cream.

Eileen rested her head against Riddle's neck. Something clammy and cold was there. She had a look and saw his necktie was stained red.

Eileen went red with shame; embarrassed to say something and also scared she'd offend her master. She pondered if it was blood. Not used to the smell of it, she didn't realize it would smell if it was.

"T-tom your necktie. It's stained."

Riddle said nothing, munching on a scone, mouth full. Eileen took the initiative and whipped out her wand. Like a devoted servant girl, she cleaned.

"Scourgify! Scourgify." Soap bubbles came out from the wand and washed it.

And then Eileen used a spell to dry the shirt. Eileen was desperate to prove herself. She could serve him like an apt follower. She was better than all those boys!

"Good girl," he said. Eileen felt the weight of his approval as he held her in the crook of his arms.

They snogged, entangled in each other. Eileen swooned and Riddle appeared content too. His hands snaked inside her robes and he stroked her buttocks. For a fleeting second he thought of the time he'd come to Stonewall Estate where in that lonely gully he performed sodomy on the unconscious Eileen!

He stopped kissing and Eileen looked into his dark eyes with pure content, almost ecstasy. She took up her teacup and drained it in one gulp.

She went back to eating, still sitting on his knee. But then she was disappointed as the lovely dinner ended too soon.

"Let's take a walk…." and he slid Eileen's skinny frame off his lap. Riddle rose to his full height and laid a few galleons on the trestle.

Eileen could see that in truth Riddle had tired of being in the sweltering, overcrowded teashop. She felt his torrid emotions, his passion recede. Eileen was disappointed, but still delighted he'd kissed her again, just as passionately as that Halloween night a couple of months before.

They stepped out and into the darkening twilight. Together they went towards the high road.

Eileen was glad that possessively, Riddle grasped her hand and they walked together like a real couple. Although Eileen had recently learned the cruel lesson, that he could never be truly hers. She knew he was set apart from normal people. He belonged to nobody and preferred to be alone.

"Tom, at least it isn't raining or snowing today. The weather is perfect!"

"Yes. But a hard wind is coming from the mountains. I predict a storm by tomorrow."

Eileen dared humor him. "Oh, you're a seer too now, My lord?"

Riddle didn't find this funny. He just said seriously, "No. The one thing your master can't do…Is predict the future."

Riddle turned the collar of his cloak up against the biting, icy wind. It was cold out. But Eileen was bundled in a nice fur coat.

"I had a good time with you tonight. I am grateful for the kindness you showed me today....," Eileen dallied, feeling wistful and she confessed, "And I wish you would show this side of you more."

"You pleased me, Eileen. You are very valuable to me. Always remain so and you will be fine." For in a weird way he was pleased, knowing how great he would seem to his followers when Graham Prince, the great Chief Healer of St. Mungo's was dead, all thanks to him. And young Voldemort was as happy as he could be, of course it wasn't genuine happiness in it's purest form, but truly he was glad.

On the High Road they finally came to the open gate into the school's property. Of course it was left open for today's visit to the village.

Riddle paused and looked shrewdly over his shoulder. Nobody else was coming up the road. They were essentially alone. Eileen shivered suddenly afraid.

Riddle held Eileen's hips and he kissed her again, gently this time. Greedily, he moved her body closer.

In the gathering darkness, he groped Eileen. She felt his hands massaging and squeezing her breasts painfully, but surprisingly she submitted. Later that night, she was deeply ashamed for letting herself go. Eileen had always been rather prudish. She had never let herself feel such desire, but clearly her Lord felt it for her and so she must reciprocate.

She would remember that day for a long time. It was an enduring, happy memory of a time Tom Riddle had treated her so well. It glowed inside her heart, rekindling her inflamed belief in Riddle's power. If only she'd known then, that the kindness he demonstrated, could not have been more malicious….As it all came from the mean thought that her father was going to be murdered.

**NOTE: Please review. I hope you liked it. It seems like it's getting more sexual, but it's not. You won't find Riddle banging Eileen in this story. But there will be sexual scenes with Tobias.**


	41. The Assassination

**Please review! We are now up to the climax of part two, which will be shorter than part one. I am sorry that I do not focus on this story. I hope you can still be kind enough to leave a review. They do help spur me on onwards.**

**Now on with the story. Sorry is has been so long, but I am very busy. **

**Chapter Forty: The Assassination**

The majesty of St. Mungo's Ward for Magical Maladies and Injuries pressed into him. He stalked down aisle after aisle.

The men and women donning lime-green robes that he passed looked like lab coats of muggle doctors. He was apart of the Healers today but only because he was working incognito under the bilious green concoction, Polyjuice Potion.

Just an imposter for his Master's bidding. He was Rabastan Lestrange, a young seventeen-year-old Pureblood on a mission. He must not fail.

Lestrange nodded to Healers who apparently knew Clarke. Rabastan played the part, grunting acknowledgements. The real Clarke was Imperiused to stay home today by his colleague, Seraphimus Smith.

Besides St. Mungo's insignia of a bone crossed with a wand, Rabastan had pinned to the uniform a tiny snake pendant. All members of the Dark Order had recently been bequeathed one. The Master who was set apart from all had a hideous skull pendant.

All along the way there was a presence. Riddle's spirit could see everything. Rabastan knew his master was nigh. It was magic that Voldemort himself utilised specially for this occasion. It had been an ingenious idea. Back at Hogwarts Riddle stood in the Room of Requirement using a mirror that had direct link to St. Mungo's. To do this, Tom Riddle possessed his mirror, which was connected to St. Mungo's mirrors, and so through possession he was encapsulating the mirrors in the ward.

Rabastan felt the eyes of his master boring into him. Voldemort was the unseen monster creeping through the portals of the looking glasses right at this moment, gazing out. The spirit traversed mirror to mirror like a portrait moving from painting to painting.

How much could his Lord and Master see? Lestrange sensed a gaze that was focused, powerfully intelligent and aware. Lestrange could sense the order to execute the Chief Healer.

It wasn't going to be easy. The young man realized this was the hardest thing he'd ever been asked to do. It was just the beginning of a lifetime of pain, torture, and murder…

He came to the Chief Healer's private residence of office. It was a small labyrinth of three different rooms; all of them plastered in slimy yellow brick.

Lestrange felt claustrophobic in the tight spaces.

Graham was just coming out a door when he heard footsteps. Wasn't Clarke supposed to be absent today?

"Who's there?" cried out Graham uncertainly. His voice echoed down the corridors.

Lestrange was forced to reveal himself in Clarke's body. It would have been easier to do it without being noticed. Now committing murder was becoming that much harder.

Graham looked at Clarke hard and suspiciously. "Oh, it's only you. I thought there was an intruder..."

"No. Not all." Rabastan managed the answer but did not dare look in Mr. Prince's eyes. This was the one he must kill, the first person ever to die at his hand and the first one to die in the name of Lord Voldemort by means of someone other than the Dark Lord.

Lestrange for a long moment pretended to work and Graham thankfully went away.

Wandering around he saw a cabinet and pretended to fumble in search of something. 'Good luck... You're obligated. Obligated to follow through!'

Rabastan silently recalled those words spoken by his brother, Rodolphus just hours ago. Introspectively he reflected that in mere moments from now he would be a murderer. The whole pack of Riddle's cult was counting on him. Rodolphus was right. He must not fail the mission or else the whole organization suffers.

Riffling through papers, Rabastan heard Riddle's spirit stir again.

The spirit whispered, "It is time. _KILL..._Take his soul."

He shivered and felt a choking sensation, as he felt constricted at the throat. Would he be able to do it, to make his move? It was time to make to utter the words, the spell that would curse the Chief Healer of St. Mungo's to his death.

Rabastan had doubts. He gripped the countertop and looked at potions sitting on a nearby sink.

The spirit of Voldemort kept it up, almost chanting, _"KILL! KILL! KILL!" _

It wasn't exactly Riddle's voice or word choice as Voldemort's speech was naturally limited in spirit form. It was much more bone- chilling. It did nothing to quell the young man's apprehensions.

Hands wrenched free of the death-like grip on the opaque countertop. Out of the lime-green robes slid his wand and he readied himself.

Graham was moving in just the other room, tinkering with equipment in preparation for a Healing experiment. And here was Lestrange, disguised as Clark listening.

Out of a back door, Graham facing away, Rabastan spied the wizard working. Luckily, he wouldn't have to see his expression when it happened.

Slowly, inexorably Lestrange raised the wand and inhaled deeply.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Instantly almost the curse struck Graham and he fell limply to the floor. Eileen's beloved father was dead.

With a surge of horror Rabastan turned tail and ran. He couldn't bear to look at the lifeless corpse. But then he felt a euphoria shoot through his veins. The mission was a success!

He passed a mirror, and Rabastan waited for instruction. None came, only Voldemort's snake-life hiss issuing a victorious proclamation:

"The blood of a Blood-traitor hath been spilt! By my doing!"

Rabastan grinned awfully, baring all teeth. And then jumped. He'd almost forgotten the final instruction!

On returning to the sight of the untimely demise of the Chief Healer, the decoy came out.

Daringly, he got a look at the sight of the dead man. That surge of euphoria spiked, knowing the power he vested. Lestrange was proud, proud to possess the nerve to employ the Killing Curse.

The decoy was a glass filled with poison falsely labeled as 'Dittany.' Lestrange took the false label off and threw it to the floor. Then dropped the bottle. It shattered into a thousand fragments. This obfuscated the cause of death, and made it appear that Graham died in a freak accident. Nobody could glean that this was a homicide, proxy murder constructed by a gang. Nobody would know that a Cult leader forged a premeditated contract with a man with inside knowledge about St. Mungo's. They might not ever know that the Chief Healer died because somebody used the Unforgivable Curse.

The poison could kill within moments. Lestrange hurried. He raised his hood, for he could feel the Polyjuice Potion wearing off. He must not be seen.

But Lestrange was able to get past security and into the safety of the London muggle streets in no time.

Eileen Prince's father and her son Severus's grandfather were the first murder committed in the name of Voldemort. And yet it was devised with the plan to look accidental. There was no Dark Mark in the sky that day….

Rabastan Lestrange managed to slip quietly away. No alarm was sounded; there had been hardly a disturbance. It would be hours before Graham Prince was discovered. The assassination had been a smooth, covert operation.

**NOTE: I hoped you liked that little glimpse into Rabastan's mind and showing how hard it is to kill a person even for a Death Eater. Of course, only really difficult for the very first murder. Now comes the interesting part how Eileen and her family react to the death. **


	42. The Funeral

**Please review!**

Chapter Forty-One: The Funeral  


Most people didn't know about Graham Prince's death until the following morning.

Eileen was sitting in the Great Hall getting started with breakfast. Tom Riddle was smart to sit as far away as possible.

He was seated with the Lestrange brothers. The two brothers looked particularly haughty today. Riddle wore a smug smile for he knew what would happen when the owls arrived.

Hundreds of owls descended on the scene bearing parcels and some with a copy of the Daily Prophet in their beaks.

Eileen had a subscription to the paper and when one landed on the table she ignored it. Eileen figured she'd read some later as it was more important she study. Today she had three exams. History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration with Dumbledore.

Ruby nudged Eileen gently and whispered, "You might want to see for yourself..."

Eileen aloofly looked up from a Transfiguraion chart. "What? I'm busy. Later, Ruby."

"Now! Eileen this is just too - too awful to wait!"

Light brown eyes scanned the headline of the Prophet: 'Unexplained Death of Chief Healer: Get the Facts Inside on the demise of Graham Prince.'

A low moan of misery escaped her throat and she fought back hicupping a sob. "No! This can't be true. No..."

Eileen vehemently shook her head and turned the pages of the prophet. There was a lengthy article, mostly full of speculation. Nobody knew how it happened apparently.

Eileen was still in denial that her father was dead.

An inquest was being held next week after Prince would be laid to rest. Eileen scanned the information regarding the inquest into her father's death. This was all too much to believe.

Most of the population was deceived as was most of the other students who didn't question the Daily Prophet. "He was poisoned! Posioned - thought it to be Dittany - What?"

Tears flowed for remembrance of the father who had been so loving and kind. He'd also been the best Healer at the Ward. How could he make such a grave mistake?

"It's true. We're sorry, Eileen. Truly. If there's anything you need, just ask."

Eileen's skinny frame shook convulsively, like clouds gathering her hair fell over her shoulders. She didn't want people gawking. "No! It can't be."

With that she bolted up from the benches. Eileen ran and was gone from the Great Hall. She felt she could run forever. Run and run until the pain disappeared. But it seemed like a grief that could never go away.

She did not stop running until she reached a lonely loo that few girls inhabited these days. It was rumored that the ghost of Myrtle who died last spring was still present. Only a few brave souls had the courage to discover it was indeed true.

Eileen wasn't brave. There was nothing more scary than when she saw Tom set the basilisk on that Mudblood girl. A ghost wouldn't give her a fright.

Eileen spent the entire day in the bathroom. Myrtle periodically joined in on crying. Myrtle had tried to get a word out but got nothing and after awhile gave up.

That evening Myrtle interrupted Eileen's tearful contemplation. Eileen was slumped by the upper window, moonlight streaming down. Even in comparison to Myrtle it created a ghostly appearance.

"I have orders from a student outside...He says you're to go upstairs to the headmaster's office."

"What?" balked Eileen incredulously. The time was suddenly recalled. She had missed class all day. This might mean she was in trouble.

"Who the hell is outside the bathroom?"

"A boy!" Shrieked Myrtle hysterically. "He told me your whole story. That your dad died." Myrtle moped and did look truly miserable at recounting the awful truth.

"Which boy is it?" Asked Eileen with dread. But she thought she knew.

"Ooh! He's the quiet, handsome one that I secretly liked when I was alive. Tom Riddle!"

Eileen groaned. So her Lord was waiting right outside this dingy loo. She better become presentable.

A glimpse and Eileen saw she was a wreck. She ran the faucet and doused her face with water and fixed her hair. But still it looked like she'd been crying ceaselessly.

Outside the bathroom Riddle was standing right there, waiting patiently. When his eyes fell to Eileen he was the picturesque version of pity, sorrow and remorse. He was indeed a great actor.

"Hello," managed Eileen bitterly.

"I'm sorry. Dippet told me to see you off. I must make sure you get there alright. You look so tired, Eileen dear. Take my hand."

Riddle held out his impeccable, beautiful hand. Eileen shrinked away. "No. I don't want you to. I want to stay here! Forever."

The dark eyes flashed in anger but he quickly got over it. "Come now, Eileen. That's no way for a young lady to behave. I have orders from our Headmaster to bring you. You will comply or I will resort-"

"Let's go then!" snapped Eileen at the same time grasping his hand.

Riddle did not speak for a long moment as they trodded silently though the deserted halls. Most of the students were getting ready for bed. It was just a few prefects on watch duty along with the staff.

Eileen looked up at her master's face. He seemed to be lost in thought.

"So Eileen...Do you think your father's death happened by accident? Do you believe Mr. Prince - I'm sorry I meant to say your father. Do you think someone poisoned your father with intent?"

Eileen was confused. Why ask her opinion like this?

"I-I think it was an accident. Nobody would hurt my father. He was a good man."

Riddle shrugged carelessly.

"Yes, My Lord. I do call it an accident."

"Exactly," said Voldemort. He was glad to have clarified his own imaginings of what was going on inside the girl's head. So she didn't suspect.

"Here she is, Sir."

Riddle strode into the large circular office. It was low lit by candles and Dippet was seated at his desk writing rapidly in a records book.

Eileen saw her mother, Marie Prince seated in one of the chairs. She wore a black veil over her visage and Eileen wondered at her mother's expression. She must be just as devastated. And there was seven year old Francis. Eileen's brother squirmed on his mother's lap looking peevish, tired and most unhappy for a little boy.

Eileen instantly went to sit in the other chair.

"Mum...When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Lets here what the Professor has to say."

In the background Eileen heard Riddle's proper and polite voice. "Good night, Sir."

"Eileen we've been discussing the hardship this places on the Princes. The death of a family's patriach is always a very sad affair. My sincerest condolences go out to you, your mother, brother and all who cared for Graham."

"Thank-you," muttered Eileen, bowing her head. She did not want to look at Dippet.

"Your mother and I agree that we should give you leave from Hogwarts. This will be your time for mourning and also so you may attend your father's funeral."

Eileen let out a fresh sob. Francis instantly followed his elder sibling and started to bawl.

"Eileen! Control yourself," snapped her mother.

Dippet looked momentarily bored, his beady eyes strayed to the ceiling. He pretended not to notice the outcry of emotions, knowing it was bothersome to Mrs. Graham Prince who was now a widow.

"As I was saying...Would you like a hiatus from your studies? Do you wish to go home tonight?"

"Of course I do! Of course, Sir," said Eileen.

"Very well then. You may leave now. I am very sorry this has happened. It is nothing short of tragedy."

Marie Prince was the first to rise. She steeled herself, hands balled into fists. "Indeed. Thank-you for dismissing my daughter, Headmaster. You have a good night."

Marie held herself fairly well. Despite the mourning garb, she appeared to be doing her best to appear like nothing happened.

Dippet directed them to go through the fireplace.

Before Eileen knew it, she was home. Back in the archaic mansion on Stonewall Estate. Father was not here. The reality of his death could only sink in. Eileen went straight to bed and cried to sleep.

**NOTE: Please review. I hope this was good.**


	43. The Funeral 2

**Please review!**

Chapter Forty-One: The Funeral  


Most people didn't know about Graham Prince's death until the following morning.

Eileen was sitting in the Great Hall getting started with breakfast. Tom Riddle was smart to sit as far away as possible.

He was seated with the Lestrange brothers. The two brothers looked particularly haughty today. Riddle wore a smug smile for he knew what would happen when the owls arrived.

Hundreds of owls descended on the scene bearing parcels and some with a copy of the Daily Prophet in their beaks.

Eileen had a subscription to the paper and when one landed on the table she ignored it. Eileen figured she'd read some later as it was more important she study. Today she had three exams. History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration with Dumbledore.

Ruby nudged Eileen gently and whispered, "You might want to see for yourself..."

Eileen aloofly looked up from a Transfiguraion chart. "What? I'm busy. Later, Ruby."

"Now! Eileen this is just too - too awful to wait!"

Light brown eyes scanned the headline of the Prophet: 'Unexplained Death of Chief Healer: Get the Facts Inside on the demise of Graham Prince.'

A low moan of misery escaped her throat and she fought back hicupping a sob. "No! This can't be true. No..."

Eileen vehemently shook her head and turned the pages of the prophet. There was a lengthy article, mostly full of speculation. Nobody knew how it happened apparently.

Eileen was still in denial that her father was dead.

An inquest was being held next week after Prince would be laid to rest. Eileen scanned the information regarding the inquest into her father's death. This was all too much to believe.

Most of the population was deceived as was most of the other students who didn't question the Daily Prophet. "He was poisoned! Posioned - thought it to be Dittany - What?"

Tears flowed for remembrance of the father who had been so loving and kind. He'd also been the best Healer at the Ward. How could he make such a grave mistake?

"It's true. We're sorry, Eileen. Truly. If there's anything you need, just ask."

Eileen's skinny frame shook convulsively, like clouds gathering her hair fell over her shoulders. She didn't want people gawking. "No! It can't be."

With that she bolted up from the benches. Eileen ran and was gone from the Great Hall. She felt she could run forever. Run and run until the pain disappeared. But it seemed like a grief that could never go away.

She did not stop running until she reached a lonely loo that few girls inhabited these days. It was rumored that the ghost of Myrtle who died last spring was still present. Only a few brave souls had the courage to discover it was indeed true.

Eileen wasn't brave. There was nothing more scary than when she saw Tom set the basilisk on that Mudblood girl. A ghost wouldn't give her a fright.

Eileen spent the entire day in the bathroom. Myrtle periodically joined in on crying. Myrtle had tried to get a word out but got nothing and after awhile gave up.

That evening Myrtle interrupted Eileen's tearful contemplation. Eileen was slumped by the upper window, moonlight streaming down. Even in comparison to Myrtle it created a ghostly appearance.

"I have orders from a student outside...He says you're to go upstairs to the headmaster's office."

"What?" balked Eileen incredulously. The time was suddenly recalled. She had missed class all day. This might mean she was in trouble.

"Who the hell is outside the bathroom?"

"A boy!" Shrieked Myrtle hysterically. "He told me your whole story. That your dad died." Myrtle moped and did look truly miserable at recounting the awful truth.

"Which boy is it?" Asked Eileen with dread. But she thought she knew.

"Ooh! He's the quiet, handsome one that I secretly liked when I was alive. Tom Riddle!"

Eileen groaned. So her Lord was waiting right outside this dingy loo. She better become presentable.

A glimpse and Eileen saw she was a wreck. She ran the faucet and doused her face with water and fixed her hair. But still it looked like she'd been crying ceaselessly.

Outside the bathroom Riddle was standing right there, waiting patiently. When his eyes fell to Eileen he was the picturesque version of pity, sorrow and remorse. He was indeed a great actor.

"Hello," managed Eileen bitterly.

"I'm sorry. Dippet told me to see you off. I must make sure you get there alright. You look so tired, Eileen dear. Take my hand."

Riddle held out his impeccable, beautiful hand. Eileen shrinked away. "No. I don't want you to. I want to stay here! Forever."

The dark eyes flashed in anger but he quickly got over it. "Come now, Eileen. That's no way for a young lady to behave. I have orders from our Headmaster to bring you. You will comply or I will resort-"

"Let's go then!" snapped Eileen at the same time grasping his hand.

Riddle did not speak for a long moment as they trodded silently though the deserted halls. Most of the students were getting ready for bed. It was just a few prefects on watch duty along with the staff.

Eileen looked up at her master's face. He seemed to be lost in thought.

"So Eileen...Do you think your father's death happened by accident? Do you believe Mr. Prince - I'm sorry I meant to say your father. Do you think someone poisoned your father with intent?"

Eileen was confused. Why ask her opinion like this?

"I-I think it was an accident. Nobody would hurt my father. He was a good man."

Riddle shrugged carelessly.

"Yes, My Lord. I do call it an accident."

"Exactly," said Voldemort. He was glad to have clarified his own imaginings of what was going on inside the girl's head. So she didn't suspect.

"Here she is, Sir."

Riddle strode into the large circular office. It was low lit by candles and Dippet was seated at his desk writing rapidly in a records book.

Eileen saw her mother, Marie Prince seated in one of the chairs. She wore a black veil over her visage and Eileen wondered at her mother's expression. She must be just as devastated. And there was seven year old Francis. Eileen's brother squirmed on his mother's lap looking peevish, tired and most unhappy for a little boy.

Eileen instantly went to sit in the other chair.

"Mum...When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Lets here what the Professor has to say."

In the background Eileen heard Riddle's proper and polite voice. "Good night, Sir."

"Eileen we've been discussing the hardship this places on the Princes. The death of a family's patriach is always a very sad affair. My sincerest condolences go out to you, your mother, brother and all who cared for Graham."

"Thank-you," muttered Eileen, bowing her head. She did not want to look at Dippet.

"Your mother and I agree that we should give you leave from Hogwarts. This will be your time for mourning and also so you may attend your father's funeral."

Eileen let out a fresh sob. Francis instantly followed his elder sibling and started to bawl.

"Eileen! Control yourself," snapped her mother.

Dippet looked momentarily bored, his beady eyes strayed to the ceiling. He pretended not to notice the outcry of emotions, knowing it was bothersome to Mrs. Graham Prince who was now a widow.

"As I was saying...Would you like a hiatus from your studies? Do you wish to go home tonight?"

"Of course I do! Of course, Sir," said Eileen.

"Very well then. You may leave now. I am very sorry this has happened. It is nothing short of tragedy."

Marie Prince was the first to rise. She steeled herself, hands balled into fists. "Indeed. Thank-you for dismissing my daughter, Headmaster. You have a good night."

Marie held herself fairly well. Despite the mourning garb, she appeared to be doing her best to appear like nothing happened.

Dippet directed them to go through the fireplace.

Before Eileen knew it, she was home. Back in the archaic mansion on Stonewall Estate. Father was not here. The reality of his death could only sink in. Eileen went straight to bed and cried to sleep.

**NOTE: Please review. I hope this was good.**


	44. The Inquest and Animagi

**Please review! This chapter I found very difficult to get inspiration for.**

**Chapter Forty-two: The Inquest and Animagi**

The ministry was out with the truth as school resumed after Easter Break.

Over the Daily Prophet Eileen brooded. Nobody saw the expression with the newspaper forming a convenient barrier.

Behind it brown eyes gleamed looking hardened and solidified. The grieving had taken much from her spirit.

"Murder," whispered Eileen.

The ministry had come out with it. The public was told that foul play was suspected. The Daily Prophet circulated the truth to the Wizarding World. This had been no freak accident. Graham had not died by inhaling poison.

Eileen saw in a burst of realization that whoever constructed the murder would have to be exceptionally clever. There were lots and lots of enemies Graham had made as the Chief Healer. One gripe was being too soft on the muggles like Dumbledore. And Eileen knew this.

Riddle had not known her father or had any connection to the hospital as far as Eileen knew. It never entered her mind that he could be perpetrator to the crime.

Eileen rifled through the Prophet, going onto the next page. There was a detailed summation of the Inquest.

A Wizengamot member produced the poison found at the scene. A photograph showed a crowd of Healers at convocation instinctively shrinking away from the one being interrogated. Hector Clark had been Graham Prince's primary work partner, his closest colleague.

Clark was the only one being implicated. The Wizengamot still had not decided whether to run a full criminal trial or not. Circumstantial evidence existed concerning Clarke's mysterious absence the day of the murder.

Would Clark be framed for Rabastan Lestrange's act? Only time would tell.

Eileen went through to the next article about the courtroom's attempt to re-enact Graham's death. It was poor imitation, and not at all accurate.

Eileen went to the center of the newspaper. There in bold headlines was the announcement that Smith succeeded Prince as Chief Healer.

Seraphimus Smith was smiling treacherously for the camera. He did not have an innocent face. Eileen stared back at this strange man, and watched a lazy eyelid twitch. He looked overworked and exhausted. But there was a suspicious gleam of triumph in his eyes. Eileen was sure she wouldn't like Healer Smith if she met him.

Finally the paper was tossed aside. Eileen took it all on reflection and tried to come to terms with somebody wanting to hurt her precious father. Why?

She looked around the room at everyone. Suddenly noticing one odd thing.

From across the Slytherin table, Rabastan Lestrange eyed her with a straight and focused gaze. He was watching curiously. There was no way to read the expression. It was inscrutably blank.

Eileen drifted attention away from the fellow Dark Order member. Maybe if she ceased looking at him he'd stop?

Feeling apprehension and paranoia from the unwanted attention, Eileen nervously propped the newspaper up again and disappeared behind it.

On the pretense of reading, she looked up, eyes slanting narrowly. Rabastan wasn't looking.

She threw the paper down again and waited. Within seconds, the boy was back to contemplating her. What was it? Could he actually be interested in her reaction to the news? Why would he care about her feelings regarding her dad's death? Eileen had never felt fond of any Dark Order member other than her Lord and Master, Voldemort. What was Lestrange so keen on?

That morning Eileen had Transfiguration taught by Professor Dumbledore.

There was an exam on the theory of Human transformations today. Afterwards there would be discussion.

After dropping Arithmancy this year, Eileen knew this was the second toughest subject. Potions and Herbology were much more suited to her.

Class ended and most of the students left.

"Stay here. There is something I'm going to ask Dumbledore. I'll need your presence, Eileen."

Riddle approached Dumbledore with Eileen trailing nearby.

Dumbledore smiled serenely, unaffected by his least liked student. "Something you wanted to ask Tom?"

Dumbledore knew that whatever it was Riddle must have waited until everybody else left. It was exactly like him to be secretive.

"What certification does one need to be a proper Animagus, Sir?"

"Registration," said Dumbledore immediately. "An Animagus must register with the Improper Use of Magic Office. The markings that distinguish the person when they're in human form must be shown."

"I see…." Riddle said. The next question was meant more for himself. His thought need not be answered. Riddle was thinking aloud. "But then there must be some Wizards that have not registered."

"Yes," said Dumbledore sternly. "But only more so because the law was passed recently. Be warned that unregistered Animagi are now subject to sentence in Azkaban. Riddle - is it your wish to be an Animagi?"

"No, Sir."

Dumbledore surveyed Tom skeptically and his eyes bored into Riddle looking unconvinced.

Riddle changed tactics and spoke quickly. "Miss Prince has asked me to help her become an Animagus." Eileen jumped startled. That was a gross exaggeration if not an outright lie. She had told Tom no such thing!

Dumbledore finally looked at the girl standing to Tom's right. "Is that so?"

Riddle glared at Eileen and she could see his demand to bolster support.

Eileen proclaimed loyal assent. "If Tom wants me to…Then yes it must be done."

"Well, fortunately it cannot happen yet. Even if you are seventeen. I'm afraid the ministry only supports Hogwarts students who are of age getting the Apparition License. They will not enforce Hogwarts students, even if they are over-seventeen's in becoming Animaguses. I am certain you would be denied your request, Mr. Riddle."

Riddle raised his voice slightly. "There is not a loophole in the law to let of age students register?"

"No. They will never allow it. If I was minister, I might relent for it is unfair to young people. However, under the current government, I am certain they will never permit Hogwarts students lawful Animagi powers."

A quill snapped loudly in half, in anger Riddle had broken it.

"Miss Prince…. is this truly your sincere desire to be an Animagi?"

"Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore stared into Eileen's light brown eyes. Through Legilimency he saw it was not the case and it saddened him. It was obvious Riddle rigidly controlled this girl and Dumbledore had long since suspected that Riddle collected this one.

In askance the Professor shook his head. "You are not telling me the truth. You do not want to become one."

Eileen murmured back a retort, desperate to please Tom. Being in the cult made it hard to make decisions independently. In reality, she did not know what she wanted. Eileen could not think for herself. The only thought was to please her Lord.

Riddle stalked angrily away, with no purpose left to speak with the Transfiguration master. But if he wanted to make Eileen or someone else an Animagus he could do it without registering, couldn't he?

It was decided a few days later that Hector Clark would not be implicated to stand trial. Clark was not charged and neither was he accused of murdering Graham Prince. The Wizengamot dismissed all the Healers and closed the case. It could only be reopened if someone came forth with new evidence.

**NOTE: If Eileen did become an Animagi it would be a Pelican. The Pelican represents Eileen's innermost nature. Voldemort secretly knows that under his Horcrux transformations he cannot transform into animal form anymore. That is why he is not interested in becoming an Animagi himself.**


	45. Riding Thestrals

**Please review! I can remember when I planned this scene well over two years ago. I am finally writing it.**

**Chapter Forty-three: Riding Thestrals **

"Hey, what are you doin' skulking around?"

"I've come to watch." The boy who asked the question was bundled in a burly coat. It was late April and warm outside but Rubeus Hagrid refused to part with it.

Observing Hagrid she watched him go round doing the job as assistant to Ogg, the Gamekeeper.

Tall creatures with hardly any flesh to their backs loped around the forest floor. They spread their wings and revealed a translucent hue like rainbows. Eileen had not seen rainbows in a long time.

Eileen pondered something strange privately.

She looked up with confusion evident on her brow. "But Rubeus...Why couldn't I see them before? All those years I've come to Hogwarts and never noticing!"

Hagrid chuckled with hearty mirth. "Thestrals! Thestrals are only seen by people who've seen death."

Eileen suddenly understood why she saw them at the end of last year. After Myrtle died and it had sunk in, Eileen had been able to see them. But she never made the connection between these creatures and death. Hindsight made it so obvious now!

"Here...Can you give me a hand with feedin' 'em?"

"Er okay..." It was a scary proposition. Getting too close to a Thestral when they aren't tethered to a carriage could earn a kick, right? Or worse what if they attacked?

Hagrid saw the trepidation. "Thestrals are surprisingly gentle. I promise. They won't hurt ya'."

Eileen nodded and took a bucket. Before she knew what she was doing, she was following Hagrid around the clearing. In the silence, there was a comfort about this boy Rubeus Hagrid.

And in a heartbeat Eileen decided to tell her troubles. "It wasn't until recent that I could see them. I just lost my father."

Hagrid listened with a sympathetic ear and put a hand over Eileen's shoulders. It felt more like a strong thump than a pat. "I know, sweetheart. The whole school's been gossiping about you behind your back..."

Eileen's eyes widened. She paused before throwing another ball of juicy flesh to a Thestral. "What? Why me?"

"Because they've got nothing else to think about," said Hagrid wisely. "Except other people's business."

Eileen diverted this, and aptly changed the subject. "So who do you know who's died?"

"Me dad," and Hagrid groaned with miserable resolve. "Just last summer...," Hagrid's voice broke. "One day he was doing fine. The next he was deathly ill. They made him bedridden. Couldn't handle living anymore. And just when I got expelled - it was over!"

Hagrid's face fell. He remembered distinctly how disappointed dad had been to hear that his son who'd been doing so well at Hogwarts lost his chance to be educated as a learned Wizard. Hagrid would have been the first in the family to finish Hogwarts on both sides.

"I'm sorry," said Eileen. And she truly felt it. "It's hard losing a parent. Especially for young people."

Hagrid shed a few tears. "I wouldn't of been expelled if it hadn't been for Riddle! I hate that kid."

Eileen shuddered . To discuss her master with an outsider was dangerous. And referring to her Lord as "that kid" was an understatement by far. He was at this point anything but a child, not much like a man either but something more than human.

"You are a Slytherin. But you're not as nasty as the rest of 'em."

Eileen felt slightly affronted. "Yes, I'm in Slytherin," she stated calmly. "And also Pureblood. But you'll find exceptions to any rule. We're not all horrible!"

"I suppose there are exceptions even for Slytherin!" said Hagrid gaily. He smiled and realized he'd found another friend.

"I mean - there has to be a few decent ones. But Tom Riddle - he's the worst! Why are you hanging out with him, Eileen? You're a nice girl."

"Rubeus, I can't talk about that. I'm in his gang- the D-Dark Order. It's just another part of my life."

The boy grew sharp. "We won't talk about it then! And call me, Hagrid. All my enemies call me Rubeus. My friends know me as Hagrid."

Eileen nodded. "Okay."

The two had bonded together easily each relating to the other over the recent loss of their fathers'.

Soon enough after giving the Thestrals a meal Hagrid had taught Eileen how to mount and ride them. Strangely she discovered that something everybody thought of as horrid actually possessed a wondrous beauty. The Thestrals were beautiful creatures.

Eileen was able to mount a Thestral quite well. But prudently told Hagrid she must fly with him at first. It would surely be a dizzying and harrowing journey.

They lifted together into the air and hovered away above the castle, passing the dazzling lake, shimmering in the dying sun. Eileen felt a freedom and release course through her spirit.

Eileen grinned and held onto Hagrid's mangy back as tightly as possible. As she smiled at the view it was like realizing the universal truth about death. It smiles on us all like a grinning Dark Mark in the sky, and yet despite this, a man can still smile defiantly right back at it.

She thought of deaths - the death of the little girl Myrtle who turned into a ghost. The death of her father who was in a far and distant place she knew not where. But Eileen and Hagrid were alive and young and free in the wind sailing past, as they soared over mountains.

The wind continued to roar and the blood throbbed in her skull. "I'm alive! I'm alive! I'm alive!" The depression since Graham's death seemed to lift and Eileen was reminded of the happiness that was always available. Despite the reality of death, they were free. "I'm alive! I'm alive!" She chanted.

But down below, Riddle was there with hands balled into fists. His face went from incredulity to anger. It was like he caught this girl on the back of a motorbike with a boy.

The ever conservative Tom Riddle would not stand for it. Hagrid was not somebody to speak to! Belonging in the Dark Order meant shunning anybody unusual.

They returned soft and quietly at twilight. It was only when one looks upon a sunset that they realize how beautiful the days are.

"Thanks Hagrid! You'll be a great Gamekeeper one day - I know it! That was such fun!" For Hagrid had shared with the girl his hope and dream to succeed Ogg as Gamekeeper.

In the half darkness a figure was standing resolutely. Tom Riddle was present in the murky shadows. But for once, Eileen did not flinch at Riddle's stare. Nothing could be more daunting than death and riding a Thestral - not even Lord Voldemort.

The high, cold voice ran jarringly over the rocks and into her ears, "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

Finally Hagrid turned abruptly, recognizing that voice almost instantly. His mood changed. Annoyed Hagrid slid off the Thestral.

Eileen ignored her master and spoke to Hagrid. Riddle was at least fifty yards away, out of earshot. Hagrid murmured, "What's Tom doin' here?"

"Dunno...Can't be that bad."

Riddle did not yell across the clearing again. But brooded silently in the dark, waiting.

For moral support Hagrid trudged along. "Leave us, Rubeus!" Riddle snarled and poised his wand, threateningly. Hagrid was a good head taller than Riddle and that was saying something. Eileen wondered why Hagrid was so tall and out of place.

"Not until you promise not to hurt her! She's done nothing!"

Eileen quickly realized the new friend was protective and shrunk as far away as possible, hiding behind Hagrid's large frame.

"I promise. Eileen isn't going to die," said Tom smoothly.

"I bloody well hope not! The way you look at her- if looks could kill she'd be dead!"

"Get out! And Eileen - Come closer to me at once!"

Hagrid walked away knowing he could not win a fight against Riddle's power. He'd already tried once.

Eileen reluctantly heeded the command.

Riddle and Eileen stood together and waited until Hagrid was some distance away and indiscernible in the darkness.

Alone again Riddle admonished Eileen for the behavior. "He's Half-giant! Do you want the whole of Hogwarts learning of your mixing with a Half-breed?"

"I don't care!" Screamed Eileen recklessly. The ride had brought on her a sense of freedom, power and abandon.

For a second Riddle was shocked at this display of defiance. He'd never thought it of Eileen.

The yew wand swiped the air and dashed a spell across Eileen's face. It was white-hot and stinging pain.

Eileen staggered and near collapsed into Riddle.

In pain, clutching her face, she tried to withdraw but his grasp was too strong. A red slash was on her cheek, her nose and forehead like the handprint from a slap.

Riddle had her arm now and led the way. Eileen looked up, tearfully. Deeper into the forest they went.

Riddle saw genuine surprise in those light brown eyes. "I didn't know he was a Half-breed. I swear I didn't! I probably would never spoke to him if I'd known."

Eileen resisted the urge to add that now she didn't care. She liked Hagrid too much to end the friendship because he descended from the inferior race of Giants.

It was a relief that this convinced Riddle. He knew Eileen harbored the same prejudices as the other Purebloods. For once Voldemort was fooled. He expected with this new knowledge, she wouldn't seek Hagrid's company ever again.

Riddle wasn't finished though. "Your father is dead because he sympathized with the lesser kinds. Don't you understand why they thought it necessary to murder him? Do you wish to see yourself go the same way?"

Eileen quickly comprehended this. Would someone kill her next if they knew of this friendship with a lowly boy who'd been expelled? If only she'd known that it was Voldemort that orchestrated the murder of her father. And even that it was Voldemort that framed Hagrid for a crime he did not commit.

"No, Master. I don't want to go that way."

Riddle calmed down. He still felt the need to exert a heavy influence of control though. Riddle was afraid this follower was going to stray from his teachings.

A cool hand gripped the back of Eileen's neck and they walked deeper into the forest.

From a distance Hagrid watched and still fuming walked away. Hagrid had been hidden behind a boulder on a hillock, just in case Riddle attacked the girl.

"Why are you riding the Thestrals?" Riddle's voice sounded lighthearted again. "There is no reason. It seems incongruous with Apparition lessons."

Sixth Years had started Apparition lessons earlier today. Eileen had done horribly. The death of father made it very difficult to concentrate on the three 'd's'. She could not concentrate when depressed.

Eileen answered the query. "I discovered how breathtaking it is to ride them!"

Riddle spoke softly, "Eileen, you are aware what it means to see them? I have told you once before. Thestrals are only seen by those who've seen death."

"I know, but it wasn't so bad. They are useful creatures. I had an adventure on them."

Riddle looked at Eileen, a repugnance etched on the handsome face. He looked jealous. Jealous of the wisdom Eileen had gained. Voldemort could never understand life and thus would never know the wondrous secret beauty of the unknown. He'd never understand the beautiful mystique concerning what lay beyond the Undiscovered country. But Eileen understood this.

"You need not employ a creature to take you places. You're learning to Apparate. No need to depend on magical creatures!"

"My Lord, you know I'm not nearly as good as you! I'm just not privy to Apparating to be honest. Perhaps, I will use the Floo Network for the rest of my life."

Riddle slid his hand possessively into Eileen's palm and squeezed it. "As a member of the Dark Order, I am ordering you to learn to Apparate."

Eileen finally conceded. They strode together under the canopy of the Dark Forest. It was now completely dark and the stars were coming out. They could not see the stars between the thick foliage. Despite being in the forest, Eileen felt safe. She was with her master and he probably knew enough magic to defend themselves even here.

"I was going to take you to Hogsmeade. I need someone to practice on!"

Tom and Eileen spent the evening together moving between Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Riddle got the chance to practice transporting another person successfully.

**NOTE: Please review. I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter should be interesting and more of the plot does revolve around the loss of Graham. **


	46. The Confession

**Please review!**

**Chapter Forty-four: The Confession**

A figure enigmatically fixed itself against a stone pillar overlooking the rocky countryside. Like a ghost it haunted the echoing, windy hills waiting for Eileen.

She did not see this hooded person on the way back. In a reverie that savored today's afternoon with Hagrid a voice sounded, 'Near full grown! And Aragog's lookin' for a mate.'

Together they visited the Acromantula's lair. The romp through the Dark Forest had been a nice diversion from classes, and even nicer that it wasn't for the Dark Order.

Eileen was still shaken. The spiders had wanted to devour her for a meal! It was only thanks to being a friend of Hagrid that she was saved.

Their webs' were gigantic, hundreds of feet of sinewy web as thick as cotton wool. But soon her mind would be off the spider's webs and onto another web entirely….

The idea of Aragog looking for a wife reminded Eileen of something pertinent. To marry a Pureblood was the only way according to mother. But Eileen could only see herself linked forever to Tom – even though he kept it a secret that he was Halfblood. He'd be a demanding if not outright domineering sort of husband, but Eileen thought she could fulfill the role as an unusually dedicated and dutiful wife.

But then the more Eileen pondered this, the more the realization of the truth came. Tom Riddle would never pick a wife for himself no matter how wonderful the woman was. There was something too grand, even inhuman that superseded marriage when it came to Lord Voldemort.

And Eileen realized finally that maybe it wasn't worth pursuing him anymore, that maybe going after somebody else was better. But who? Not a single boy in the castle caught her eye.

"We need to talk, Prince!"

Eileen's head snapped up in alarm. Who would dare address her in such a cold manner but an adversary?

"What do you want with me Lestrange?"

"I have your tonic," said Rabastan with a sly, knowing grin.

At the mention of the Elixir of Youth Eileen came closer. "You've got it?"

"You bet I do," grunted Lestrange. He fumbled through the deep pockets of his robes. Lestrange had known doing this would be the best way to get Eileen talking.

"Rookwood just brewed it for you as usual."

"I was running low," said Eileen. "It's a good thing you were here to give it to me."

Eileen joined Rabastan, leaning against the pillar. She took a long drag of the Elixir smacking her lips.

"Sometimes I wonder why Tom wanted me on this."

"To make you even more beautiful," answered the boy. Eileen searched his face suspiciously. It had not been said with false flattery or any matter of duplicity. It seemed like a genuine, honest comment.

"Yeah, that's it," she concurred slowly. It would not be until years later that an older Eileen would possess the wisdom to surmise what a reckless undertaking it was to start on such a potion.

"We need to talk, er- Eileen. In private."

"We're alone. We'll talk here."

"No, we can't. I don't want to be overheard. It's too-too important. Top secret. Nobody can know. I figured we'd go out to the Black Lake."

Eileen looked at Rabastan and thought she could probably overpower him. She'd be safe enough with this fellow Dark Order member. If he attacked in any way Eileen was confident that that would be grossly underestimating her powers.

They meandered down the rocky ridge and found themselves at the boathouse. With wand outstretched the boy rigged a sleek hollow boat and undid the chain tethered to the post.

He jostled inside and Eileen followed suit. Within seconds the boat was gliding on its own no need for oars to row. From the boathouse and past Hogwart's quaint wharf it went.

It was nightfall, and the stars glinted with a pale moon just rising over the dreamy, fantastical landscape of Hogwarts. Eileen took to stargazing. Stargazing was much more interesting than a Dark Order member. In truth, she never felt comradeship with any of them.

Lestrange was struggling with the words. He had to tell Eileen something and he didn't know the right way to do it. Should he bluntly come out with it? No, that would be wrong. Rabastan wanted to do this the right way.

He decided to bring a change over his usual tough character. "How has it been since your father died?"

Eileen raised an eyebrow and looked galvanized. "You're asking me how I feel about it?"

"Yes," said the Dark Order member seriously. "I am."

"I have been at my lowest. But lately...," Eileen resisted being honest. She dare not tell Lestrange she'd become friends with Hagrid. Ultimately it would get back to Riddle. He had not forbidden associating with Hagrid directly. But eventually he'd probably discover it and Eileen would surely suffer. But it was worth doing, because Hagrid was a friend that assuaged her wounds regarding whoever it was that killed Graham. Her new friend was a wonderful distraction.

"Things have been better. I've changed my perspective. Life is short, you know..."

Eileen stared at the tiny waves of water, her skinny frame clinging to the side of the boat.

Rabastan still looked oddly thoughtful.

Finally the other occupier in the boat prompted him. "What is it? There is something you need to say...I know it!"

"I-I had a hand in Graham's death. More than that. It was me. I am his murderer."

Rabastan's face burned red with shame.

"You? But the papers claim it had to have been a St. Mungo's employee. You're just a student-"

"Just a student? I had orders. Abiding by them is law. Lord Voldemort - our master ordered me to do it. I couldn't object!"

Eileen felt mysteriously befuddled at first. Her voice conspiratorially low despite the fact it was impossible anyone else could be listening. "T-Tom arranged this? He wanted to kill...my father?"

Eileen wept bitter tears. Her hands turned white as she grasped her wand under the cloak. Then ground her teeth in a rage.

The boat seemed to be spinning. Eileen's world had stopped suddenly and it all felt topsy-turvy. She wanted to be alone and she was stranded in the Black Lake with the man who killed her father!

Eileen slid her wand out and jumped up. The boat swayed unexpectedly but bound by magic, would not tip over.

"I-I'll kill you!"

Lestrange did not cower, despite having an unusually gifted witch looming above with the declaration of imminent death.

Hatred boiled inside Eileen to be looking at the face of this person. This was the face of her beloved father's murderer?

"I-I'll kill you now," said Eileen, still fuming with hatred. But she couldn't actually execute the Curse.

"Then kill me now," he said resignedly.

This shook Eileen out of it a bit. "Kill me. It won't matter. We are bound to serve the Dark Lord to the death anyway. Sometimes I wish I were dead...Sometimes I wonder if I was eleven or twelve again - would I have chosen so willingly to join the Dark Order with what I know now?"

Eileen felt a stabbing sense of jealousy and indignation. "If death is not the worst fate for you...Then I will use your confession as evidence for the Wizengamot! You may spend a lifetime in Azkaban!"

Lestrange laughed. "You cannot use this confession as evidence. You will have to go through Voldemort first. Besides this would be breaking the Vows. You will die before you ever make it to the ministry!"

Eileen screamed, "NO! I will have you punished. You can't - HE won't get away with this!"

"There is not a shred of evidence Riddle was the ring leader, Eileen! And you know our Master ordered us all to never tell. Disobeying direct orders breaks a clause in the Unbreakable vow we all took at initiation...You go any further and you will surely die before you so much as a utter a word of the truth!"

Eileen screamed. The sound went nowhere now a mile out on the Black Lake.

She sat back down and stowed the wand away. She breathed hard as if just ran an exhausting race. "So it comes down to V-Voldemort. Lestrange you were just his instrument!"

"Of course I am! He is proud that I can cast the Avada Kedavra! It was my mission. I succeeded. His faith in me is stronger than any other member!"

Rabastan despite all this, was still very loyal.

"But do have mercy on me. Forgive me, I am not without conscience!"

But Eileen felt no pity for this young man just seventeen years old. So young and already done the most notorious deed. Murder.

"Riddle doesn't have remorse," muttered Eileen. "I finally understand him."

Lestrange snorted and grew cynical. "YOU understand him? Nobody can. The other boys are deluded."

Fiercely Eileen rallied at once. "I probably know him better than you boys!"

Rabastan said nothing. Eileen took the silence as a consensus. It was probable she knew something they didn't. She did have a different perspective being the one and only girl allowed in a club full of boys.

Lestrange still looked thoughtful and Eileen looked at him quizzically. For answer he shifted in his seat on the plank and spoke. "We resent how he he's different with you. Not better. You don't get better treatment. Just different. I'm sure he doesn't consider you a real member of the Dark Order."

Eileen's face fell with disappointment cause she knew it to be true. She was an outsider and had never really been involved. She felt like a pariah to all of society suddenly. She hated the confining aristocracy of the Purebloods and her mother's meddling wish that she marry a great Pureblood wizard. And she hated that she couldn't fit into Tom's world either. For Tom's world was a man's world. And in the Pureblood's world she had to be a woman who would marry. The Purebloods would only accept her as a witch who must follow a woman's trajectory through life.

There must be another place. From this moment Eileen started to question why she'd ever been born a Pureblood. Did she really wish to remain in the Wizarding World anymore? No. She wanted to hide from everyone and retreat alone into this black hole of grief. The murder of Graham Prince had simply been the catalyst that would throw her out of this world and perhaps to retreat into the obscurity of the muggle world?

"Surely, I am going to let our Lord know! I will tell him that I know it was you now! And when I do, at least I know he will punish you..."

"He might," said Rabastan. "But my conscience was punishment enough. At least I got this off my chest. When you go to Voldemort, Eileen remember this: The Dark Order is a brotherhood. Women have no place in it. I was wrong to tell you this. He wanted to keep it secret - He intended to keep this secret all along I think...You-you are merely a girl to him. He could dispose of you very easily..."

Eileen wasn't listening to this wise word of warning. In a heartbeat she pitched over the edge of the boat and plunged into the dark waters. She swam back to Hogwarts, all the while desperate to reach Riddle.

**NOTE: Please review. I hope that was a good chapter. **


	47. Disillusioned

**Please review! I apologize for not working on this. I understand if many of you lose interest. But unfortunately, I can only write when I truly want to. There were other writing projects consuming my energies. I just finished, "The Head Boy's Secretary." So I might be interested in updating more frequently. **

**Chapter Forty-five: Disillusioned**

After swimming through the Black Lake, a distraught Eileen shuffled to the Slytherin dormitories. The sodden robes clung to the skin, feeling like but rags on her back. Everything seemed lost now that the truth was out. There was nothing but the clothes on her back, her wand and the few material possessions left to her in this world.

She darted about frantically in search of Riddle. Oh, where could he be? She needed his 'wise' counsel now more than ever. Eileen was somewhat in denial. How could she believe he'd a hand in Graham's death? No, it could not be true!

Eileen impelled forward, towards the boy's dormitories. She'd never ventured in his bedroom yet.

The door was locked. Turning the handle and then rattling it did nothing. She could not remember the manners to knock.

"My Lord! Tom! I need to see you. I need you. NOW! Please, if you're there...My Lord!"

For a moment there was no answer. Eileen rested her high forehead on the door. Her skull throbbed, consumed with the painful tale of father's death. Rabastan Lestrange had actually killed him, and their master was the one who ordered it?

The door swung open on its hinges. Eileen stood face to face with the sneering Antonin Dolohov. " Our Lord has better things to do than listen to your crying!"

Dolohov ascertained that the only witch of the Dark Order was in a state. Tears stained her face, the nose running, and she hiccuped back sobs, low and throatily.

"Please, let me in. I must see him..."

"Only because he relented to your company," whispered Dolohov.

Eileen gathered herself, taking care to wipe the tears away with a handkerchief.

Young Voldemort was in a high-backed armchair, facing away from the room. He had a view outside through the window, of which he stared out at it in contemplation. A sheet of afternoon sunlight made a rectangular shadow on the carpet.

Eileen approached from behind. "My Lord, forgive my disturbing you! But I had to come. I simply had to!"

From the back of the chair, Riddle cocked his head upwards. The dark eyes had a curious glint. "What is it?"

He didn't comment on her emotions, but Riddle was a master at reading people. And it was more than obvious that something greatly upset the girl.

"YOU KNOW! Lestrange told me the truth!"

His eyes widened and he started from his seat. Then sat back. The news had discomfited him. In an instant, Voldemort comprehended it all. "Which one?"

"Huh? My Lord, I'm talking of my father! You killed my father. No other sacrifice matters to me now. I don't care who dies, just _not_ my family! Did you _really_ murder my father?"

Several things went through Riddle's mind. He saw that it was a huge mistake. To kill a follower's family member meant a major test to that follower's loyalty. He was not sure Eileen could survive that test. But it had been worth it, hadn't it, to dispose of the Chief Healer of St. Mungo's?

He shook his head testily, growing impatient. "Eileen. I asked which one?"

Eileen was confused.

"Which Lestrange brother?"

"Rabastan confessed! He told me everything. He used the Killing curse. It was you who thought it! Why?"

He stroked his chin.

In the shadows stood Dolohov listening rapt. Riddle was deep in thought, like a daze. Most unpredictably, he snapped out of it. "DOLOHOV! Bring me Rabastan!"

Dolohov threw himself out, and went looking. His Lord and Master sounded terribly angry.

Eileen was left alone with Riddle. She could feel herself breaking down, but resisted.

"Eileen, don't stand there looking so pitiful. Sulking! Father would want you to be happy!" It did not sound sincere. This was a sarcastic method of manipulation.

Eileen shuddered and wasn't fooled. Riddle looked on at Eileen's tears in disgust.

"All my followers willingly make sacrifices. Except for you, up until now," he lied. "Have you considered that destroying Graham was the greatest thing you could ever do for me?"

"NO! Why did you do it? Why? Why?"

"I shall tell you why," said Voldemort outraged and finally direct. "He was treating and healing Muggle-borns. Mudbloods that deserve to die. Prince was even treating muggles at the ward. It was a brilliant political ploy for me to stamp him out. Rabastan, acting under my orders plowed through his office and killed him. I watched in spirit through a looking-glass!"

That was enough for Eileen. It was disheartening to know that he was the instigator.

And Eileen collapsed at his feet, weeping. "Oh, My Lord! My Lord!"

In her dirty, soaking wet school-robes Eileen twisted on the floor. She was reduced to a poor creature, all dignity gone.

"My Lord, why have you forsaken me?"

Meanwhile, Dolohov didn't have to look long. Rabastan was ready to face his fate. He knew Lord Voldemort would know that he told Eileen the truth, and Lestrange was brave enough to face the consequences.

The two young men entered the room. Eileen's cries still rent the air. Voldemort ignored it.

With effort, Voldemort kicked Eileen. She rolled over away from him.

"Lestrange! Come to me, now," said Riddle, the timbre of his voice terribly stern.

The killer of Graham hurried over. Eileen was consumed by so much grief she hardly registered what was going on.

He fell at Voldemort's feet, kissing them as a sign of fealty.

"Well, Lestrange? I think we both know where you went wrong. I told you not to speak of it with anybody who was outside of us."

"Yes, My Lord. But Prince is not quite an outsider. That's why my vows didn't break when I told-"

"But you knew I didn't wish her to know. Now you leave me in a predicament!"

Eileen screamed a blood-curdling scream. "Silencio!"

Voldemort had cut the spell forth with his wand.

"Lestrange, I can either have this girl's memory modified... Or choose to let her live with the pain. Yes, I think I want her to live with it...It does her a good lesson in learning what it means to serve Lord Voldemort." It was a punishment devised for Eileen. And Voldemort knew that Eileen couldn't tell anybody the truth or she would die instantly due to betraying the Dark Order.

"Let her live with this pain," simpered Voldemort cruelly, his strong white teeth forming a rakish smile.

Eileen was in a calmer of state of mind and understood. An excess of tears shot down her face, and down her chin. But the spell made speech inoperable. She felt weak.

Lestrange spoke, trying to divert the attention away from his blunders. "You're going to burden Prince with the truth?"

Riddle's eyes swiveled slowly, and slanted down, observing her like this was a subject for an experiment. "It should be interesting to see how she handles it!

"Now we come back to you, Rabastan….Don't think I've forgotten."

"My Lord. My lord! Please forgive me!" said the terrified follower. He groveled at his feet. Voldemort raised his wand.

Eileen did not hear much of it, except a distant voice of a young man's screams from the Cruciatus curse.

She'd fallen back down the dark, terrifying hole and into the clutches of Lord Voldemort once again. He was her drug. Eileen had come to stop relying on him, until now. This was a relapse.

The next few weeks flew by, Eileen in a state of mourning for Graham. However, everyone in the Dark Order was surprised and even baffled to see her slowly turning against him. She was disillusioned. It was like a phoenix that had burned, rising from the ashes. Soon Eileen would try every resource in her power to turn away for good. However, the path this choice would lead to was anything but easy.

.

**NOTE: Please review! I am not sure what the next scene is. Part Two is almost over I think. I have a couple of summer scenes planned with Eileen and her mother, and brother. Then Riddle and Eileen start their Seventh Year. **


	48. Disillusioned 2

**Please review! I am coming to the end of part two. Part Three will be Seventh Year. Part Four is Eileen's life after Hogwarts, up until her death. **

**Continuation of...**

**Chapter Forty-five: Disillusioned **

That evening Eileen was still shaken by the truth. Alone in her dorm, trembling on the bed the tears had finally ceased and with it came a greater presence of mind.

Across from the four-poster bed was the opal necklace lying innocently on the dresser. Immersed in soft candlelight the green and glittering stones didn't glitter.

Eileen glared at it with dark eyes, shadows forming. She crossed her arms and pouted sullenly. She thought back to the memory of that summer night at home on Stonewall Estate. She could hardly remember a thing. Undoubtedly, Riddle modified the memory of the event.

She found herself before the dresser and was overcome by a fit of rage. She screamed and threw the necklace. Luckily Stephanie and Ruby were not here to witness this scene. The necklace that had once belonged to the muggle, Mary Riddle ricocheted across the room.

Throwing things wasn't enough. In the looking glass there appeared a beautiful seventeen-year-old witch. Thanks to the Elixir of Youth not the slightest pimple or enlarged pore tarnished her skin. She wasn't the most beautiful witch at Hogwarts, but every feature was perfected.

The nose no longer jutted out. The eyes were at least the same. The cheekbones were higher. But it was a lie.

For a moment Eileen couldn't believe that this was her anymore. It was a lie! But surely if she stopped taking it…the withdrawal process would kill her. Thanks to Voldemort she'd be forever enslaved to it.

Again Eileen screamed. She pounded the mirror until it cracked. Blood oozed down her wrist. It hurt really bad and momentarily was sorry.

She limped across the room, cradling the injured wrist. Her other hand held her wand ominously. Through the levitation charm the necklace hovered by nonverbal magic. Her throat was so constricted with renewed sobs she couldn't utter the incantation.

Set back on the dresser, Eileen examined it with renewed interest.

A new inspiration alighted inside. At the foot of the bed was the heavy, wooden trunk. She accioed over a couple of spell books. Again not saying the spell, just thinking.

No, that wasn't right. Not simple magic from Spellman's Syllabry. But yes. Her own private collection of books on Dark magic would be perfect!

For a long time, Eileen sat atop the bed and pored over the books. Finally, the preparation and the method was studied so thoroughly it could be done.

With her wand in one hand, the necklace tightened its cords and it grew hot as melting metal. Yet the magic did not damage the opal's luster.

Her hand shook fearfully, but Eileen kept at the curse. The necklace seemed to become a new entity. Like a creature of prey it bound itself over its mistress's wand, answering to none but the maker of its curse.

When the curse was finished, Eileen looked it over. It all appeared the same. But now if anybody touched it they would suffer and probably die. If worn, they would die within moments.

Eileen felt a surge of pride at this feat. It had taken a lot of skill and powers to conjure such Dark Magic to encapsulate a curse around the necklace. It was fueled by disappointment, hatred, anger and passion against Tom Riddle and his followers.

And without further ado, the disillusioned Eileen tossed it carelessly away. Where she'd never have to look on it again.

She'd not be reminded of those memories with Riddle. Like that summer and also when he took her to the New Year's Eve Ball, and he'd complained she wasn't wearing it.

The necklace was stored in the magical strongbox Riddle had given for her birthday. Bitterly, it was deduced that even then he'd been planning the murder. No wonder there was such kindness that day! He was happy to be getting something he needed, thanks to knowing her. It was a great opportunity to make such a political statement to his gang, by assassinating an important leader of the Wizarding community.

Never again would anybody wear it. It was enough of a curse to have known him. With his own Dark Magic Riddle had made the necklace indestructible. So Eileen was only able to put a curse on it. And now it lay in the strongbox, discarded like a neglected toy in a toy chest. A toy, just like the instrument she was.

For the rest of the ensuing term at Hogwarts, Riddle never noticed she wasn't wearing it. For Eileen didn't matter to him at the moment. He'd taken what he wanted after all.

One day Eileen acted on another secret scheme she'd been planning. It was true that Tom Riddle's bedroom, which he shared with two of the followers was as barricaded as the headmaster's.

However, Eileen stole the password one day after a Dark Order meeting. She stole it from the mind of one of the boys and modified his memory. Eileen had proved herself a fairly good Legilimens with this cunning technique. But she didn't give herself the credit that she deserved.

"Horcrux," Eileen whispered for this was the password. The door swung open. She pondered what this word could mean, but Riddle hadn't told any of the followers that.

Inside dust motes shone in the morning light, but otherwise the room was kept in immaculate order.

Eileen went searching through Riddle's stuff. Finally she found a small black box, but it wasn't the same as the strong box given as a gift.

Inside there was an assortment of miscellaneous items: a nail-filer, an old, empty wallet a bouncing ball and more. There was literally hundreds of random, non-magical stuff. Eileen briefly wondered what was wanted with them. She didn't know he'd taken them from students at Hogwarts that he'd hurt.

At the rock bottom was her mother's pearl necklace.

Triumphantly, Eileen snatched the item Riddle had taken from her at the New Year's Eve Ball. She slipped it in her dressing gown. It was getting late and Riddle could be getting back, but Eileen escaped unawares.

**NOTE: Please review! I think this could have been better. **


	49. A Severed Connection

**Please review! I never thought I would make it this far in. The following is the final chapter of Part Two (the Sixth year). This jumps ahead and is also a surprising event. **

**Chapter Forty-six: A Severed Connection**

With flying colours Tom Riddle passed the apparition test in May. Some would be doing it over again this summer, including Eileen.

It was a relief to journey back to King Cross alone. Riddle would no longer board the Hogwarts Express. He'd gotten his license and was of age. This summer he'd still be a ward of Wool's orphanage, but at the same time he would spend as little time in London as possible. The Lestrange family was allowing him the summer in their castle.

"Let us talk…In the Drawing room. Not here," Eileen's mother looked around the books, they reminded her of her late husband.

Her one passion besides the house, was money. The widow did not want Graham's memory to be strong. Marie mustn't fall apart. There was the ministry's treasury and her precious little boy. But Eileen, was an oddball. Her daughter was intelligent but lately there was something wrong. Like an animal sniffing out another's weaknesses, Marie had noticed it since the prior summer.

"Eileen, dear…What went on that morning last summer? You were acting funny."

There was no answer as the girl looked up from her reading. Marie Prince stood clad in wispy black robes, silver hair knotted in an elaborate do. She was pretty, except for the hooked nose. Eileen had a beaky nose, more like father's. However, the elixir perfected the shape, bringing it to a reduced size.

"Don't you remember? You were acting strange. You were screaming in your sleep and there was cuts on your arms…"

"Oh that…" Eileen frowned. She had figured out that it had something to do with Voldemort, but even she didn't know what happened.

Marie prompted her daughter again. "It was nothing but – a b-bad dream. A nightmare, mum! Forget it."

"It was funny though." the mother squinted, riddled with doubt.

"To the drawing room then. There is another matter to discuss. It requires our full attention."

Marie strode down the gloomy, neglected corridors of her mansion. The widow and her son did not take up much space, even if the Pureblood crowd visited frequently.

Eileen followed resolutely; picking up that mum was in work mode. What had this to do with the ministry? Eileen could almost smell the galleons. Yes, this was about money. A money issue. Her mother had always been a miser.

Seven-year-old Francis came around the bend, striding languidly looking doleful and bored for such a young child.

"Your sister and I are attending to business. You may entertain yourself. Quietly."

The boy's little face titled upwards pouting. "I want to play! Me and Eileen were gonna do magic tricks. She said she'd teach me. Didn't you Eileen?"

Marie took this much too seriously fuming, "Eileen! How dare you tell Francis he's ready to do magic. He's not old enough to carry a wand!"

"Oh, mother. Really! I was just going to see if his powers have manifest."

"I suppose it was nothing," said Marie calming down. "Francis you go to your nursery till dinner. No. Come with us. I think it necessary to hear what I have to say," and a scorching look was thrown at her daughter.

Eileen wondered what she'd done to make her mother this way.

In the drawing room a gargantuan grandfather clock chimed the hour.

She chose a sturdy hassock; too nervous to sit on the velvet upholstered chairs. But Marie reposed on it like a queen. Francis went for the daybed in the window and in a dull stupor, kicked his legs high in the air and after that was infirm.

"Francis, please sit up straight for me."

He listened, his feet swung, dangling over the edge of the sofa.

"I'm ready for whatever this is mother."

Marie had gone over to the table and from it retrieved a heavy book. She slammed it into her lap.

"This is my Gringotts accounting book. My personal funds. Not the ministry's" her eyes raked up and down, glaringly.

But Eileen was genuinely flummoxed. "So? You've let me have my own bank account since I was sixteen."

"Yes," said Marie in a clipped voice. "However you will not speak with such mendacious pretense in my house! You know very well what I mean."

"I don't!" cried Eileen passionately. It was true, she hadn't realized yet.

"You've been trickling money out of Graham's account since the year before he died. Where did the money go Eileen?"

Tears stung Eileen's eyes. It was sort of true.

"Mother I-"

"Spending the lot on yourself? Become a clotheshorse have you, since blossoming into womanhood? What did you do with over five-thousand galleons?"

"It wasn't me. I can swear it," Eileen began to cry. Somehow she sensed this was going to be the end. And she truly hadn't spent a galleon in months.

"Where has it gone? The money was combined after my late husband's death. That fortune belongs to me!"

"Wonderful news. So you've increased your wealth, by taking Dad's money. You don't deserve it. You were always as cold as a fish to him!"

Marie's small mouth pursed unpleasantly and her demeanor grew more ill tempered. "Don't talk about what you don't understand. I-I married your father for the family connection. The Princes are one of the most esteemed Pureblood families in England. Now what did you with my galleons?"

"I can't explain. I really don't know…" Desperately Eileen wanted to shout the culprit. Tom Riddle demanded every follower to hand over their control of their family's banking. Like a vulture, Voldemort descended on the Prince's vaults and was slowly pinching it all from them.

What he was using it for, was only a guess even to Eileen.

One day, not far back Eileen had inquired on what he'd done with a particular large withdrawal. Riddle had acted unusually furious and almost jealous of Eileen. This was because Voldemort couldn't actually go to the bank and withdraw the money. With no Gringgott's key, nor an account there, it was impossible for him to do it himself. Gringott's accounts were restricted only to the old Wizarding families. The Gaunts had left no money, living a reclusive life cut off from mainstream wizards.

And Riddle was demanding a pretty sum.

"If you don't tell me…I shall have no choice but to do something I think you will regret," said Marie slowly.

"Oh, what it is it?"

Marie looked to her son with loving eyes, but Eileen found it sickening. "I will not allow you to ruin my son's future. It is not only me you're hurting!"

"Mum…I can't tell you what is happening. But I swear it isn't me!"

Eileen sat down again. Woe be to him, if Riddle bothered for galleons again! He was ruining her life.

Marie paced around the room, wand out. "If you can't explain yourself…I shall have no choice but to desert you. I will write Gringotts and make sure only I may get in the account henceforth. You will be restricted from going there to take my money! And in the bargain I disown you."

"Disown me? Whatever for?"

"You have ruined my son's future. You no longer deserve my good graces, dear daughter!"

"Mum…I'm so sorry. Don't do this. If you d-disown me, Francis will have no one. Nobody but you."

"Is that such a bad thing? I have friends at the ministry and there are the relatives. Francis will still have his uncles, his aunts, cousins. Everyone." Marie seemed to be reassuring herself.

Eileen spoke up again, noticing this weak moment. "Francis! Francis! You want me to live here after I graduate Hogwarts next year, right? Don't you?"

"I- I do. But mum-"

Francis was shrinking like a violet; clutching the waist of Marie's robes and looking like an even younger child. He peered out and regarded his sister like a stranger and not like a sibling, his only sibling he had in the world.

Marie turned to her son and was glad to see this estranged feeling for Eileen. "See? This is for the greater good. I don't know what Eileen gets up to. I smell something rotten in Denmark. Five thousand galleons didn't just disappear….

"It is decided then. Eileen you may spend the summer here. I'll give you time to secure your own place!"

"Mum you're throwing me out?"

She nodded. And with the most sympathetic expression, implored again. "Please don't do this. Look at Francis.

"Francis say something! Don't let her do this to us." In one last act of desperation, Eileen tried to get Francis to vouch for her. The voice of a little boy would surely count for something? But Francis thought wrongly that his mummy didn't love his sister anymore, and it terrified him. Could mummy ever stop loving him? This event would have an impact on him for years to come.

"Francis has not matured to make such a decision. When he is older he will understand…"

Brother and sister were both crying.

"On the fire goes your inheritance. And I am removing you from my will."

A scroll of papers was tossed into the fire.

"As head of the Prince family I demand this tapestry remove my daughter, Eileen Prince born 1927 from the wall. This moves signifies a binding magical declaration of which takes effect in every magical establishment at sundown."

"NO!"

But it was too late. A stream shot out the mother's wand and entwined over the image of Eileen's face. There was a flash and then a hole appeared, a small conflagration erupted. The mark left was as ugly as a cigarette burn.

"There you are disowned."

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm Pureblood!" Eileen was sad, but also angry.

"That will never change." The voice was level and calm. "You're lucky your blood is cream of the crop. I suggest you clean up your act, girl! And stop associating with bad company."

"Bad company?" Was it possible her mother discovered the connection to a group called the Dark Order?

"I mean your friends. Whoever they are. Clearly it was them that influenced you to act unwisely. I'm sensible enough to see this truth, Eileen! Your mother, was never a fool!"

"I-I…I hate you. You'll never understand me. You'll never know what I've been through!"

It was too much to bear. Dramatically, Eileen stole out the Drawing room.

Eileen did not stop running until she reached the end of the expansive gravelly driveway. It felt like she could have run forever, displaced from her roots there was nowhere to turn.

Heaving back sobs, she leant over the fountain.

That day she did not return to Stonewall Estate until dusk.

Inside her bedroom was the wooden chest to transport her wardrobe to and from Hogwarts. It now held her most treasured possessions, all she would be able to take with her. The few things left to her name. There was Marie's lustrous pearl necklace. She'd been planning on giving it back. Defiantly, Eileen clutched it and decided to keep it. It was a valuable item, and at least she still had a small fortune of her own in the bank, but not nearly enough to support her for life.

** NOTE: Please review! This helps explain why a Pureblood witch winds up marrying a muggle. Like Sirius Black, Eileen Prince is disowned from her wealthy family. How else could she have wound up on dingy Spinner's End with a muggle? **

** Also, Eileen's mother is a very unlikable woman. Eileen's father had been the much kinder parent. However, Marie does love her daughter but casts her out due to fear. She thinks Eileen is sowing a bleak future (which is true). Marie is afraid, but deep down there is love there, and not just a black heart. She always loved Eileen, but lost connection with her heart as she got older.**


	50. The White Pelican

**Please review! This is the start of Part Three. But I am upset because this part does not have as much direction. Part One and Two were so good, and part three does not have as much plot according to me 'Pensieve Plotter'. Sorry if it is lacking. But at least you will find part three to be very different. Eileen is changing! **

**Part Three: Going Under**

**Now I will tell you what I've done for you  
Fifty thousand tears I've cried  
Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you  
And you still won't hear me, going under **

**Don't want your hand this time, I'll save myself  
Maybe I'll wake up for once  
Not tormented daily, defeated by you  
Just when I thought, I reached the bottom **

**I'm dying again, I'm going under  
Drowning in you, I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through, I'm going under **

**Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies  
So I don't know what's real and what's not  
So I don't know what's real and what's not  
Always confusing the thoughts in my head**

**So I can't trust myself anymore  
I'm dying again, I'm going under  
Drowning in you, I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through, I'm **

**So go on and scream  
Scream at me, I'm so far away  
I won't be broken again  
I've got to breathe, I can't keep going under **

**I'm dying again, I'm going under  
Drowning in you, I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through, I'm going under  
Going under, I'm going under**

_**- 'Going Under' by Evanescence.**_

**Chapter Forty-Eight: The White Pelican **

Over the summer, Eileen had time to think. She made a plan. A plan to rid her life of Voldemort. Forever.

In boxes most of the belongings were transferred to a lonely, muggle warehouse. Next summer would be the hard task of finding a flat. The personal effects included the one tangible memory of Graham that Marie allowed: the Prince's library. The priceless trove of books, full of ancient Wizarding lore, and tales of magic and luck and love were shipped off to a dingy warehouse. But Eileen, a lover of books swore to rescue them and offer them a place at her new home. Wherever that may be….

The Head Boy regarded the Head Girl like an overbearing bully, sizing her up.

Eileen did not want to hear what nasty thought was going through his head right now.

But it was announced aloud and rudely reminded her that they weren't alone.

"An introduction is in order! Eileen Prince is the Head Girl. How astonishing that this girl, stands beside me. Eclipsing me with her skills and talents!" Riddle laughed sardonically. This was all a mean joke.

"Tell the Dark Order what happened."

"My Lord! Please. That is private-"

Voldemort addressed his followers. "Over the summer Eileen Prince, a Pureblood was cast out of her family. A pariah in the Wizarding world, she is now completely alone in the world. And yet this oddity, somehow made it to Head Girl."

Eileen blushed.

"How touching, Dippet bestowed on you this gesture! For years, we've known and grown on each other! And now here we stand: side by side! In the same position. Like equals."

The way he made it sound, it wasn't an accomplishment but instead an ironic twist of fate as if Eileen hadn't earned becoming Head Girl.

Eileen reeled as the large room erupted with jeering laughter. Nobody believed in her. Nobody liked her here. And they all thought Voldemort the better.

At the end of the night the followers lined up as if to a drill sergeant for inspection. Several of them were supposed to be working on becoming un-registered Animagi.

Riddle poked his wand under the nape of one of their necks, and tilted the head to get a clear look at the expression.

"And what can you do Macnair?"

"My Lord. I am not ready for you today. But-but wait! I have secured a place at the ministry after Hogwarts."

"Doing what?"

"The Department of Magical Creatures wants me as their contractor. This is in the business of buying and selling magical beasts!"

Voldemort guffawed but moved on.

He stalked down to the next one.

"Surely you have managed it Dolohov?"

"Watch me." Out of nowhere there was a pop and the tall, lanky frame of Dolohov transformed into an Animagi.

"Very good. Excellent. You learned how to make yourself a bull. A bull in a china shop, ha! It reflects your inner nature. Of course, doing it under my proper instruction. This could be very useful to me in future.

"So…Antonin has managed to make himself an Animagi. One that is unregistered with the ministry naturally. Your skills and talents will be very useful when I need to keep a low profile. I thank-you for your efforts."

The young man transformed back to his normal form and bowed again and again.

Eileen patiently awaited her turn. But Riddle made sure to call upon her last.

"And what may I ask, does the talented Head Girl have to show?"

Eileen blushed. "M-my Lord. I can't do it. I never liked Transfiguration. Even Professor Dumbledore knows it is my least favorite magical art besides Arithmancy."

"You can't do it? Or you won't?"

"I won't!" Eileen yelled before she had even knew what she was doing.

He reached forward with whisperings of threats resounding in her ears. Eileen was sure she heard "Imperius curse."

"NO! But I can do this. Expecto Patronum!"

From the folds of her robes Eileen had had her wand and out blasted an opaque, luminous being.

Voldemort swooped down and away, almost frightened.

The luminous being that erupted from the wand started cantering around the room, looking at everything with shining points of light from its eyes.

Riddle for once was at a loss for what to do. He just stood there, turning back and forth from Eileen to the creature. His lips actually quivered, his chin actually wobbled.

"You can produce one?" he asked astonished. "That is highly advanced magic! Dumbledore himself said few can produce patronuses like that."

"Yes, I can. I've been practicing for our Newts in Defence Against the Dark Arts, My Lord," said Eileen smoothly, looked unruffled.

He looked completely and utterly surprised still.

"My patronus is a pelican," announced Eileen proudly. "It comprises my form when I think of my loveliest memories. Mainly of my dad."

Riddle did not get a chance to address this, nor regain his bearings. The Pelican started to fly, it actually charged. The large beak protruding as if in attack. It seemed to have located an enemy.

The pelican's beak assailed Tom Riddle, directly in front of them all. Riddle stumbled and was knocked over a chair hitting the ground.

After this, it was so silent a pin could be heard.

But Eileen felt a rising sense of triumph in her heart, no longer was she falling through a hole. She had just bested Tom Riddle at something. She was sure of it.

"This is unnecessary, unpractical magic. It is used against the Dark Arts," spoke Riddle to the group, trying his best to sound unperturbed. "We do not have a place for this magic here. It is a force against Dark forces, I do not condone such tricks, Eileen!"

They all looked at him with wide eyes, but they seemed to believe this. And yet some of them scratched their heads framing a question in their minds. Could Lord Voldemort produce a patronus? They doubted him for the first time ever.

Riddle with his Legilimency was furious to hear the doubts ringing in their heads. But he knew he had no desire to make a patronus. Riddle was sure he could not, but then again, felt no need to.

Eileen made it disappear into smoke and vapor until it was gone.

Riddle rose slowly, drawing up to his full height.

"And that was indeed a pelican! Pelicans symbolize sacrifice. In fact, it is known for giving its blood."

Eileen couldn't help but correct him. "Giving its blood for its babies, My Lord. The Pelican will give its life only for her children."

"It's matters not who! It is after all, symbolic in relation to the caster. But you will give yourself in sacrifice someday. Your fortune is cast from this spell. That we can be sure of."

Eileen looked away, but didn't dare counter that this would not be a sacrifice to Lord Voldemort or worse to his cause.

At the end of the night, Eileen smiled to herself. The future would be a rocky one. But there was a confidence that the conundrum of Riddle would soon be out of the equation!

**NOTE: The pelican will matter for how Eileen feels about her son, Severus. Even though, Eileen proves to be a neglectful mother as we see in the Prince's Tale, I still think she may have saved Snape with her love. **


	51. Brewing the Elixir

**Please review! **

**Chapter Forty-six: Brewing the Elixir**

The rest of the autumn term passed uneventfully, but it was a very enjoyable time. Riddle had swiftly retreated from her life. Eileen felt spent and used. Now that he'd taken what he wanted, he no longer communicated so personally, but strangely enough, Eileen did not miss the company. And she had grown comfortable and accustomed to the delights and privilege of being Head Girl.

At first, Eileen was sure the newfound popularity and interest in her person would create friendships. But all it did make was acquaintances. Rubeus Hagrid remained a one and only true friend, and he was a very loyal and brave one at that.

It was two days before Christmas and Eileen was lost in thought, bearing a look of deep concentration. Inside she debated whether to have hopped on a Hogwarts sleigh and taken the train to mum and Francis. It might be their last Christmas together.

But just to spite Marie Eileen decided obstinately to make a no-show. But perhaps in the New Year, she would later decide to leave the grounds and apparate over!

Eileen clutched at a piece of foiled, gold paper. On it was a declaration that Eileen Prince was fully licensed to apparate and disapparate at will and leisure. Last summer, she had failed, but finally after the third try succeeded beautifully. Third time being the charm wasn't half that bad. A few witches and wizards never mastered it and died without ever having passed.

Eileen hurried through the corridors and made it to the secluded bathroom where complete privacy was to be sure. But despite this ideal location, somebody did show up. So it was with irritation that Myrtle was received.

Eileen quickly dispelled the annoying girl-ghost. "Hey, Myrtle! I'm still wondering if it's true that you peed in your pantyhose and wet the floor in First year! They say your teacher had to siphon it off the floor cause you hadn't learnt the spell!"

The ghost flew away sobbing and screaming most theatrically. Eileen grimly came to the conclusion it had definitely happened given the speed with which Myrtle soared away.

Now at peace, rid of the ghost, she set rapidly to preparing the ingredients for another batch of Elixir. Everything had to be ready for exactly the right time intervals, but as a master of potions, it was expected to be a success.

The smoke and vapors rose from the cauldron and wafted into the ceiling vents and the young witch worked with back turned from the entrance. Gloves and goggles were donned; as some of the ingredients were lethal enough to kill when inhaled or even touched.

There was a sudden draft. Eileen jumped and was going to hide, but saw it would be an unnecessary move. She was cornered and out maneuvered by Head Boy, Tom Riddle who finally wished to speak alone.

Eileen remained startled, thinking of the fumes.

"So Rookwood no longer makes them for you. You've chosen to do it for yourself I see."

Quickly it was ascertained that he understood exactly why she had come to this particular bathroom and he knew she was working with lethal ingredients.

"My Lord! The smells! Will they not cause you a trip to the hospital wing in the very least?"

He laughed casually and spoke quite airily, not the least threatened by the immediate danger of exposure to deadly chemicals. "I have dropped hints to the Dark Order all term. You are an intelligent witch, haven't you deduced what my words meant?"

"No. Unless you are saying you cannot be damaged or killed through ordinary means," and Eileen boldly confessed, "And that is extraordinary! However, I have no idea how one could possibly do a spell that prevents death!"

Riddle paused momentarily, his dark eyes drifting around the room. And then hurried to offer help, taking mortar and pestle without answering. Keeping so busy, grinding the ingredients, Eileen could see that he had no business divulging whatever his secret was.

"During the holiday, there is another initiation. Alphard Black shall be entering the Dark Order. You will attend."

"Yes, My Lord."

And with that Voldemort glanced once at her and departed.

Eileen left in solitude reflected on what had happened to her in the last two years. Two years ago Riddle had introduced her to his whole world, and his gang. Eileen had at first been swept up in it, adoring Tom Riddle for his charm, his looks and especially for his unrivaled magical powers. Now Eileen felt nothing but cold regret.

**NOTE: Please review! **


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